I'm a Profiler, Get Me out of Here!
by E. J. Morgan
Summary: It's not that Rossi hates the kid... He just doesn't know what to make of him. It's okay though because they can just avoid each other, right? Well, until they're enlisted against their will to go undercover as father and son, that is... - As always, slightly changed timeline and a bit younger Spencer (21 years old). :)
1. Not What It Seems at First Glance

**Not What It Seems at First Glance**

Rossi was sitting across form Hotch at the younger man's huge working desk in the spacious, elegant office room, feeling as if he were a naughty school child chided by the angry teacher for breaking out a window with his ball instead of attending Math class. When the unit chief had called him in, stating that 'they needed to talk', he'd instantly had a feeling he wouldn't like the topic of conversation at all.

By now he _knew_ very well he didn't like the topic of conversation at all.

"Dave, please. Just give Reid a chance…" – Pleaded the unit chief, trying to keep his team together and doing everything in his power not to lose another member. They had to already face how hard it had been when Elle and then Gideon left but he knew, deep down, that if their young and innocent genius were to quit, this unit probably wouldn't be the same ever again.

"I don't have anything against the Kid personally, Aaron, but you have to see how strange it is for one of the most important elite groups of the FBI to babysit a barely 20-year-old boy who dresses like an old professor from the 80s, wears mismatched socks, spits out random facts that nobody cares about and is still afraid of the dark!" – Rossi sighed, remembering the incident a few days ago when suddenly all the lights had gone out thanks to a sudden flash of lightning in the violent thunder storm, and the resident genius had been stuck in the kitchen (pouring himself another cupful of his abominable coffees, no doubt), completely alone. By the time the lights had come back up, the boy had been sitting on the floor in a heap of misery, pale and shaking. Judging by the well-practiced reaction of the other team members, it wasn't such an unusual thing for him to happen. – "If Jason insisted on having him around, for some, for me at least, completely unfathomable reason, he should have taken him along when he left, not 'dump him in our doorstep' so to say and leave us to deal with the consequences." – He finished heatedly, remembering good old times with melancholy when it had only been the two of them, without cast outs and other strange people to entertain during working hours.

The unit chief rubbed his eyes tiredly, thinking about how he wasn't cut out for meditating in a situation like that. He had to remind himself over and over again that his older friend wasn't trying to be difficult, he just _didn't understand_. Not yet. He'd have to make him part of the team and feel the same way the others did. Or, at the very least, tolerate their opinion and not try to change it.

"I'm afraid Reid would agree with you on that. But if Jason had even as much as entertained the thought of taking him away from us, we'd all have hunted him down and killed him. He'd have died a slow, painful death…" – The older man blinked in confusion, never having heared Hotch talk like that before. – "Dave, we love Reid and we're fiercely protective of him…" – He added unnecessarily, making it sound just a tiny bit like a warning. He respected David Rossi to no end, but nobody. NOBODY. Was going to hurt their youngest; whether physically or emotionally. And what he'd do to someone who tried anyway would not even match up to what Morgan would subject the culprit to… After Hankel, they were more like lionesses guarding their cubs than anything else.

"I'm not hurting him, Aaron." – Stated the older profiler, proving that he had gotten the hidden meaning just fine. Clever man.

"I'm not saying you're doing it deliberately, but he's not stupid, you know. Far from it. And he _was_ bullied during his entire school time, so he knows all the tricks. So do we, as a matter of fact."

"I'm not sure I get what you're referring to, Aaron." – Well, maybe not so clever then…

The strict unit chief looked his older subordinate straight in the eyes while listing:

"Rolling your eyes when he's coming up with his own ideas in the debates over a case? Sighing dramatically when he tells us statistics? Calling him 'Genius' with a sarcastic undertone? Looking outright panicky when you have to do something with him? I could go on and on, Dave, but do any of these ring a bell…? Maybe?"

Rossi at least had the decency to look somewhat ashamed of himself.

"I really do not want to hurt the kid, I swear. I just don't know how to handle him. When I worked here before, it was only Jason and me, and, as you know, we _made_ the BAU. We didn't have a team; no media liaison, no strange technical analyst with clothes that make my eyes hurt and certainly not a gangly know-it-all boy. And I don't have a child myself, so I have no practice with them at all. I just… I guess I'll have to get used to it."

"It's understandable, just try to get used to it silently. I mean it, Dave, this behavior towards Reid has to end now. The boy worships the very ground you walk on; can you even imagine what this obvious rejection from you is doing to him? Especially right after the only father figure he'd ever had left him the way he did? He's still blaming himself for it."

"What? But that's stupid. Nobody has ever been able to get Jason Gideon do anything he didn't want to do. That kid couldn't have chased him away even if he had wanted to. He's not that impressive…" – Rossi said with complete determination.

Hotch started to uncomfortably fumble with a pen.

"This is not that simple… These two… Actually: Reid IS that impressive. They were like father and son. I've never seen Jason that close to anyone before."

"He has an own son, you know… surely-"

"No. While he loves Stephen, I don't have any doubts about it, they had never been this close not to mention that they haven't talked for years now. With Spencer, it was totally different. They're more similar than you would think, because, at first glance, they're completely different in style and appearance. But they have lots in common: the same hobbies and interests."

"Oh, don't tell me the kid's a birdwatcher too?" – Joked the older man.

"No, no." – Smiled Hotch. He couldn't imagine the constantly vibrating young man sit still for hours to watch the nature. – "But Jason taught him to play chess and they spent hours bent over a board in the office after everyone else had already gone home. And they both read a lot and discussed books all the time. Jason loves old Chaplin movies and he showed them to Reid who got sucked into them right away. Spencer, on the other hand, tried his best to teach Jason about Star Wars and even Star Trek. And the boy is the master of crosswords and got Jason into solving some as well. Such things."

"I see. It's really incredible. Usually Jason doesn't really care about anyone that much."

"I know, I told you they were very close. And so, in a way, it was because of Reid he left…"

"But how? Why? What did the boy do? Maybe he's not so completely innocent after all? I mean, if Jason loved him that much, he had to do something very bad to make him leave! Did he reject him? Tell him 'you're not my dad, leave me alone' or something like that? Jason is my friend and-"

"NO! It was nothing like that, Dave! I know you've been trying to get Morgan and Emily to tell you what happened but I'm the only one who knows why Jason really left. It was in a way, as I already said, because of Reid but it wasn't any _fault_ of his. It's… complicated. And it's something I can't talk with the others about."

"Not even with the kid?"

"Especially not with Reid."

"But why? If they were really that close then wouldn't he deserve to know what it was that drove Jason away? According to the others, and even you mentioned it just know, he thinks he's the reason; that he wasn't good enough for his 'father' to stay and mentor him further. He believes he was a disappointment, doesn't he?" – Guessed the senior profiler.

Hotch sighed with the weight of the entire world on his shoulders. He hadn't planned on sharing the story with anyone but he was slowly snapping under the strain of being the only one aware of the truth and having to keep it from everyone – especially the young man who was suffering the most. He needed to tell someone, and he knew it could only be Rossi, nobody else. Nobody who had worked with Gideon when he had so abruptly left. He had promised during their long talks and sleepless nights in many nameless hotels all over the US that he'd never tell any of their team members about the older man's struggles. But Rossi hadn't been a team member back then, so telling him didn't count as betraying the trust placed upon him, right? He hoped not because he knew he couldn't deal with being the only one to know it any longer and watch the young boy beat himself up about something that he completely misunderstood.

Having made a decision, he took a deep breath and began explaining:

"A few months before Gideon left and you came, something happened in Georgia. Something horrible. I'm sure nobody has told you about it because we generally avoid mentioning it at all; I think, none of us can bear to think about it. The only exception was Jason; he always needed to relive it and reassure himself that there would have been nothing more for us to do to help… So, we talked, a lot. But only the two of us when nobody else was around."

Rossi nodded in understanding.

"Whatever you tell me, Aaron, I promise it will stay between us. You can trust me. I can see that you need to tell _someone_ , and I have a feeling you can't talk to any other members of the team."

"No, I can't. It's a very delicate topic and still gives each of us nightmares…"

"What happened in Georgia?" – Asked the older man, bracing himself for what he was about to hear. He knew already it wouldn't be pleasant.

"Reid was kidnapped and tortured by a schizophrenic UnSub, and we were forced to watch parts of it via live feed. It was horrible… But it's the other parts… those we didn't see… that worry us the most. Not knowing is worse than the terrible images penetrating our dreams. And, of course, Spencer is not talking about it. I guess he would have told Jason, had he just asked… But he wasn't capable of listening to it and we others didn't feel we had the right…"

Rossi's eyes widened in shock. Never in a million years would he have thought that someone could hurt the kid that way! He was so very young and innocent, it was like kicking a puppy…

"What? Who would do something like that to him?" – He asked incredulously once he managed to find his voice.

"Someone with three personalities and equally as much fabricated reasons for causing pain to their hostages. Beatings, kicks, hits, psychological torture… just to name a few of their practices. I think there might have been drugs in play but… it's never been confirmed. And it's not as if I can ask about it officially."

"Jesus…" – Rossi gasped. He felt nauseous. – "It's a good thing you got there in time then."

Hotch shook his head sadly.

"As a matter of fact: we wouldn't have found him at all if he hadn't managed to give us cryptic clues while he was being beaten to death. Literally, because he stopped breathing for minutes… And then by the time we finally figured out what he had been telling us, and got there to 'save the day', he had somehow overpowered the man and shot him dead. While digging his own grave, just imagine!"

For an entire minute, the senior profiler just gaped at his superior. Was he hearing all right? He hated to admit it, but he certainly would never have given that scrawny, geeky young man credit to do all these by himself and live to tell the tale after such a gruesome kidnapping. Maybe… just maybe… he'd have to rethink his opinion about the kid?

"Ahm… Oh, God." – Was all he could say in the end.

"Yes. And Gideon… He blamed himself. For Reid 'dying' for those agonizing minutes, for all the pain and suffering he went through and also for the fact that he just wasn't able to help him afterwards because he was too busy battling his own demons."

"I never knew Jason to be this… affected by anything. We see awful things all the time."

"Yes, and that's exactly what he couldn't understand either but fact was: he was unable to help and unable to deal. And quasi immediately after that, his own home was attacked and his girlfriend we hadn't even known existed, killed. That was the last straw but not the reason, contrary what the others believe. Only Reid feels some of the truth and I know it. And now you. And it has to remain that way! I promised Jason I'd never tell the team about his; what he called; 'weakness'."

"Well, I don't want to judge but I really don't understand why he couldn't help the boy he loves like a son." – Stated Rossi angrily. – "But I wasn't there so I can't really get to say anything, I know."

"No, that's true. And be glad you weren't there, Dave, I mean it… Anyway. That's Jason's story and the reason he left. It's not Reid's FAULT but it's about him. And that's also the reason I'm sure he won't contact the boy for a very long time. If ever. And that's what the others don't get: why he doesn't keep in touch at least with his surrogate son even if he's not working here anymore."

"I would ask the same thing if I were them. But the most important thing is: Aaron, I hereby solemnly swear to pay more attention to how I address the kid from now on, because this boy deserves all the respect there is; I get it now."

"Thank you, Dave. I can't and I don't ask you to like him or spend your free time with him. I won't even pair the two of you up unless it's necessary, since it's obvious you don't work with him very well. It's fine. I'm just asking you not to hurt his feelings because he's been through more than anyone I've ever met and, while he still looks to be all right, I'm actually not that sure he's not struggling more than he lets on."

"Duly noted. You can count on me, Aaron: you're not alone with this."

"Thank you, Dave. That means a lot."


	2. Unexpected Assignment

**Unexpected Assignment**

It had been over three weeks since Hotch and Rossi's little heart to heart and – true to his word – the older profiler had been paying extra attention ever since not to do anything that could be interpreted as remotely hurtful in the presence of the boy. It hadn't been very difficult since Hotch had kept to his promise too and hadn't once teamed the both of them up and had made sure they always did separate assignments during cases. This way they hadn't even met a lot, except for team briefings and the plane rides, during which the senior profiler had done his best not to listen to the boy's ramblings and to sit farther away from him. He had gained a whole new level of respect for the young man after learning about the horrible kidnapping, that was undeniable, but it still didn't mean he had become any better with tolerating the kid's unique style…

If Reid had noticed any favorable change in the older man's behavior towards his person, he hadn't mentioned it, but he certainly wasn't looking for his newest teammate's company anymore either. With his initial hero worship rammed into the ground by the man's previous rejecting attitude, he had made peace with the fact they wouldn't be friends like with the others and had gravitated towards Morgan and Hotch instead a bit more, trying to figure out his place on the team now that his mentor had gone and left him behind.

So, that had been the blissful state of things lately and it suited Rossi just fine. Until, one day, he had been invited to the unit chief's office in an official business once again – and to his utmost surprise: along with his youngest colleague.

As the two of them gingerly sat down at the desk, facing their boss, both shot each other carefully calculating glances. Reid honestly didn't have an idea what he could have done to upset the new addition again; he had been trying to respect the man's distrust towards him and leave him alone. All the while Rossi was thinking: 'The kid went and complained about me now when I'm doing my best!? What the nerve!'.

Hotch just gave them a strained smile and steeled himself to what was to come. He would have liked to be somewhere else. Anywhere. Preferably at a beach or something. But he was right here in the Quantico Headquarters of the FBI, acting as unit chief, so, sadly, nothing else remained for him but to take a deep breath and reveal:

"You've been asked to join me because there's an assignment that requires the two of you to work together. Just the both of you."

This statement was so far away from what they had been expecting, that the youngest and the oldest of the team gaped as one. 'Finally, some kind of understanding.' – Thought Hotch sarcastically.

"Excuse me, Aaron? I thought you promised… Khm…" – He trailed off, chancing a look at the boy next to him. He wondered whether saying what he had just been about to say would be considered 'hurtful'.

"He promised to keep us away from each other. Yeah, I know." – Sighed the young man dejectedly and Rossi knew he had an answer to his question: yes, it was definitely considered upsetting by his young colleague. Damn. – "I know you can't bear to be near me, Rossi. It's okay. Hotch, I think someone else would be better for the job, whatever it is. Maybe Morgan-"

"No. I'm sorry but it has to be you two. Nobody else fits the requirements according the briefing I got. Besides, you've been requested personally by SSA Jasper Collins."

"Huh!?" – Was all they could say.

Supervisory Special Agent Jasper Colling was a no-nonsense middle-aged man leading the Organized Crime Unit operating within the FBI. He had at least 15, highly trained operatives under his immediate command and was not known to just 'request' people from other units – especially not from a unit that normally did such a different work to theirs. He was of the opinion that their special training placed them to a superior position to everyone else inside and outside the FBI and that also meant he didn't tend to speak to anyone except for members of his own group. When he was forced to spend time with other unit chiefs at official occasions like Christmas parties, he always put on a face that suggested he had swallowed something particularly nasty and foul and made it clear to everyone how much he was suffering.

"I'm afraid I don't understand, Aaron." – Managed to get out Rossi after a while.

"I'm afraid I don't either, Dave, but my hands are tied: Jasper expressly wanted you two and the Director has approved as well. You're to begin your temporary assignment tomorrow, so first thing in the morning, you'll report in Jasper's office. At eight. You're not allowed to be late! Not now." – He pressed.

"Ahm… sir… Are you sure he wanted _me_? Isn't there a misunderstanding…?" – Squeaked Spencer, visibly petrified at the very idea of meeting the dreaded man that didn't have a very favorable reputation within the FBI. If he didn't even consider Morgan's training worthy of mention, what would he say to Reid barely being able to fire his gun and meet the target…? Did the man even know about his _age_!?

"I'm sure, Reid, yes. And believe me: I fought tooth and nail to stop this. I couldn't. I'm sorry." – The unit chief hung his head, obviously upset.

"And what will we do there? How long will it take?" – Demanded to know the senior profiler. Never ever had anything like that happened to him before, and now he'd have to march in there to face the biggest jerk of an agent with a snotty kid at his side? That was unacceptable!

"I have no idea… They wouldn't tell. I'm honestly very sorry."

That was it. March in, with a snotty kid, without knowing what was awaiting them and how long they'd have to work there… Could the day get any 'better'?

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

Apparently, it could.

"Dave, Reid! There's something else." – Said Hotch, hurrying to meet them in the bullpen before Rossi could disappear into the elevator with the others to go out and get some lunch, and also to prevent Spencer from pouring himself a third cup of coffee since getting the bad news, as a way to try and forget his sorrows.

"Oh, no. What now, Aaron?" – Asked Rossi, already dreading the answer.

Spencer put down his cup with a forlorn sigh and stepped closer to his boss.

Making sure both his subordinates were present and paying attention to him, the unit chief reluctantly answered:

"I just got the message to tell you that you'll need to bring your go bag and pack… khm… a bit more than usual."

"More…? How much more?" – Reid was becoming increasingly suspicious about the whole thing and thinking that if he didn't like the idea at first, now he hated it with a vengeance.

"Ahm… at least for a month, SSA Collins said." – Replied Hotch carefully.

Silence for a beat.

"A… _month_?" – Repeated the senior profiler in disbelief, feeling sure he had misunderstood the words. It couldn't be, could it?

"Yeah… but he also assured that if… ahm… khm… well…" – Their usually calm and collected boss gulped, then said very quickly: - "If it takes longer, you'll have opportunity to wash your clothes."

Silence again for at least two minutes during which the elevator had arrived but nobody seemed to pay attention to it. Morgan, JJ, Emily and Garcia were looking at each of their three teammates in turn, trying to make sense of the conversation.

" _Longer_ …? Than a _month_ …? LONGER!?" – Now the young genius was positively panicking and his eyes darted around as if he were looking for a way to flee. – "With the Organized Crime Unit?"

"WHAT!?" – Shouted Morgan. – "What is this about, Hotch?" – He didn't understand anything. Why hadn't the other two told him about this before?

The unit chief sighed, resigning himself to having to explain it to the whole team in the middle of the bullpen with an audience watching them eagerly.

"Reid and Rossi had been borrowed." – He said.

"Borrowed?" – Repeated Emily. – "What does _that_ mean?"

"That means, Prentiss, that they'll have to be on temporary duty with the Organized Crime Unit for an indefinite time. And no." – Hotch added quickly. – "I didn't have a say in it."

"But… But…" – Squeaked Garcia. – "That's impossible, isn't it? Our people don't have the same training as their people and our Baby Genius… well…"

"I'm right here, Garcia." – Reminded her the young man ruefully.

"I now, Sweet Cheeks, but you have to admit: this is ridiculous!"

"I can take care of myself." – Soothed her Spencer but without success; most probably due to the fact that he himself didn't feel so sure about it and thus couldn't be very convincing.

Morgan patted his shoulder in what he hoped was a reassuring gesture.

"Kid, we won't let it happen. We'll…" – But then he trailed off, since he didn't have an idea what they would do to prevent the inevitable.

"It's okay, Derek. Thanks anyway…"

"Hotch, can't you do something?" – Asked JJ hopefully, eying her two teammates with worry. – "That unit… they're… you know they have a reputation of not being… well… _sane_."

Reid and Rossi both paled even more and Emily shot JJ a look that said: 'Great going!'

"No, JJ. I've tried everything, but the Director has approved of the assignment."

"And just what exactly is that assignment we're talking about?" – Demanded to know Morgan, needing to feel like he was doing something to help his friends. If nothing more, then at least gathering information.

"I wasn't told. Apparently, it's top secret and not even I am allowed to know it." – By the way he had said it, it was quite obvious what Hotch's opinion was about the whole thing.

"That unit is crazy!" – Shouted Garcia angrily. – "Don't worry my Cupcakes, I'll find out!" – She promised, already heading towards her office to start digging.

"Right… Well. Everyone: go get something to eat then come back and do your paperwork. Rossi, Reid: you may take the rest of the day off. Go home, sleep and relax before you'll have to report to SSA Jasper Collins and his team tomorrow. And… we'll talk in the afternoon and you can tell me what happened, all right?"

"Right. Thanks, Hotch." – With that, Spencer returned to his desk to gather his things, having lost all hope that it all could have been only a bad dream.

Rossi shook his head in total bafflement.

"I don't understand this whole thing. Why us? We'll talk tomorrow, Aaron."

They all went their separate ways and nobody talked until much later when Garcia announced dejectedly that she hadn't been able to find out anything about this mysterious mission their friends had been requested to take part in. Apparently, the Organized Crime Unit's files were as protected as the NASA secrets.

Really, what was going on?


	3. You Must Be Kidding!

**You Must Be Kidding!**

It was 7:50 AM and Reid had just arrived at the bottom of the numerous stairs on the fifth and final underground level of the Quantico FBI building about which not many people even knew it existed, let alone that it was where the Organized Crime Unit had installed their own version of bullpen. More like a fortification, really. Looking around in the narrow corridor, the young genius shuddered. He couldn't imagine working down here daily: it was cold and dark and just plain _scary_. He shuddered again and anxiously peeked towards the steep stairs: where was Rossi? He wouldn't be expected to go in and face the enemy alone, right!?

Luckily, the man in question soon arrived as well, panting from the exercise of walking down so many flights of stairs and drawing his coat more firmly around his frame with a frown upon realizing the chilly temperature.

"This is it? That's where we're supposed to meet the team?" – He asked his colleague foregoing any pleasantries but also, probably as a supposed way of greeting, curtly nodded his head towards the younger man.

Spencer sighed in defeat and answered:

"I guess it is. Shall we go in?"

Knowing there was no way to avoid their fate, Rossi took it upon himself to push the large and heavy iron gate open with some difficulty and step in first.

Inside, there was a blur of activity: agents in uniforms running all over the place, all hurrying to do their tasks. Some had their arms loaded with high towers of files, balancing them awkwardly and barely managing to keep them from falling and scattering everywhere. Others had cell phones glued to their ears and spoke in strange jabbers that would make even Reid proud. ('Oh, so there's reception down here? Crazy!' – Thought the genius, impressed in spite of himself.) In the middle of it all, on a podium that resembled the bridge of a ship, stood the MAN himself, overseeing his studious little ants and commanding discipline with his mere presence.

Spencer felt so very out of place here, he was thinking about turning around and running for dear life, never mind the consequences. But it was too late: SSA Collins had already spotted them and was currently headed their way with long, determined strides. There was no fleeing anymore. Rossi gulped as well, unconsciously stepping closer to his young teammate, not entirely sure if he wanted to offer protection or desired it for himself; a bit of both, probably.

"Sirs. Welcome to our home base. I'm Supervisory Special Agent Jasper Collins and these agents…" – He motioned around. – "… are going to be your temporary teammates for a while."

"Ahm… may I ask how long this 'while' is? Sir…" – Rossi inquired but then had to work hard to prevent himself from blushing like a teenage girl facing her first love; his blunt question clearly wasn't expected here, and it was apparent it wouldn't be tolerated in the future either.

The unit chief levelled him with a cold glare that could make kings run crying the other way, and continued as if the older guest hadn't opened his mouth at all:

"… You'll be acquainted with each of those you'll need to know later on, for now, please, kindly follow me to my office to go over the details of this admittedly unconventional situation. This way, if you will."

Both newcomers were certain they really didn't have a choice; the command might have been worded as a kind request but it was still unmistakably an unappealable command. So, for lack of any other option, they shot an unsure glance at each other before reluctantly following the strict man, feeling as if they were walking into a deathtrap.

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

Entering the brightly lit and somewhat even friendly office was a relief; at least here they didn't have to endure the other agents' badly concealed curious glances.

After being invited to do so, they took a seat across from SSA Collins and waited to be briefed about their actual jobs, already thinking of how they were going to do whatever it took to finish it as soon as possible to get back upstairs into the light and the 'real world' where there were real people instead of these… _vampires_ that resided here.

The man didn't hurry to offer an explanation: he slowly opened the top drawer of his mahogany desk and carefully pulled out an elegant tobacco pipe.

"Briar. Rustic. It belonged to my father and to his father before him. A family heirloom, still good as new. I don't tolerate cigarettes but pipes… they have their own styles. They give the smoker a certain kind of elegance. And _elegance_ is very important nowadays, when it's so apparent some people…" – He gave a long-suffering look at his guests, eyes landing on Rossi first then lingering on Reid a bit longer, making the younger man squirm uncomfortably. – "… sadly lack any trace of it. Do you agree?" – He asked them, leisurely tasting the tobacco and humming in satisfaction.

"Ahm…" – Was all Rossi could say while Reid just averted his gaze quickly, looking around the room instead.

The walls were all covered by bookshelves that weren't just filled with books (though there were surely several dozens of them too) but also with small statues, expensive drinks and other relics. Safely behind glass, the young man could see a whole collection of military medals displayed, all bearing, undoubtedly, SSA Collins' and probably his family members' names.

On one of the walls hung a huge map; that was in the only surface that wasn't hidden by a cabinet. And a big floor standing globe had been carefully positioned in front of it. There was no window in the entire room and Spencer had to remind himself that it wasn't so unusual, seeing that they were deep underground. Surely, it wasn't because the man was really a vampire…

"So." – The unit chief finally said, instantly rousing the genius from his musings, back to the cruel reality. – "As you most probably know, I asked for the two of you to join my team for a certain assignment that requires your… unique… qualities." – Both guessed this might have been part of the man's monologue, so they just nodded silently, not asking about what those 'unique qualities' could possibly be. – "I'm immensely grateful that you agreed to come today." – Well, it wasn't as if they'd had any choice, had they? But you're welcome, anyway… – "Before I'll be able to tell you exactly what you'll be expected to do, I have to ascertain that you're ready to face what's to come." – This didn't sound comforting. Not at all. Of course, they chose to keep their opinions to themselves yet again. – "When was the last time any of you had gone through the refresher training?"

Reid looked to be developing a panic attack so it was Rossi who delivered the bad news to the apparently clueless man.

"Sir, it's not mandatory for us, since we're profilers first and foremost. We all have basic training that we get at the Academy before joining the Bureau but that's it. We're not even officially required to carry a gun…"

"What? You're telling me you don't frequent courses like Tactics, Strategy, Weapons or even Operational training?"

"As I said, we… khm… No. Not really."

Spencer was shaking like a leaf and only half of it was due to the low temperature. He cleared his throat before squeaking.

"I… well… I practice shooting with Hotch… I mean… Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner… our unit chief-"

"I know who he is."

"Yes… khm… well. I practice with him. To make sure I can… ahm… you know… shoot and actually meet the target. Sometimes…" – His temporary boss looked at him as if he were seeing a ghost, so the boy quickly added helpfully: - "But I'm getting better, I promise! I didn't fail my last qualification a couple of months ago… Not like… well… before…"

"And what about workouts? You do regular weight-lifting exercises and the three-event physical performance test to assess your endurance, don't you?" – He narrowed his eyes and studied his provisional subordinates in suspicion. – "Well, don't you?"

The senior profiler shrugged helplessly.

"I go jogging once a… year. Probably."

Reid smiled sheepishly.

"I used to play chess a lot." – Seeing the dumbfounded expression of SSA Collins and Rossi's smirk, he added defensively. – "It's officially considered a sport, you know! It has all the attributes: it's competitive, it challenges the mind, it's well-established, there's a behavioral code and-"

"You. Play. Chess?"

"I used to… There's nobody to play with anymore." – The young man said sadly, causing the older profiler to give him a strangely calculating stare.

"And what about running?"

"I can't… I mean, I can run… a few meters anyway to catch the bus or subway, obviously… but Morgan… I mean Supervisory Special Agent Derek Morgan, our teammate… always teases me it looks like I'm a newborn foal trying to stand up for the first time, so…"

"And ball games? They're great for team building and even practicing working together on strategy."

"Morgan tried teaching me once to use a baseball bat but… I seem to have a bit of trouble with eye-hands coordination…"

Rossi shook his head.

"I haven't even played basketball for ages."

"But that's outrageous! You're FBI agents for God's sake! How can your unit chief allow that?" – They wisely decided to consider this a rhetorical question too and not say anything.- "Well, then the first thing you'll do is attend a four-day training course."

"Excuse me…?" – Gaped Rossi.

"Sir, with all due respect, you can't mean that…" – Tried Spencer.

"I can and I do." – Assured them the unit chief. – "I will not have either of you die while under my command. I'd have to use _our_ founding for your funeral." – Both temporary members blinked. – "So, it can't happen. Four days, beginning today. And on Monday, you'll begin the task you've been brought here to do."

Rossi's eyes opened wide.

"But, sir, there aren't four workdays until Monday! It's Thursday already…"

"I don't think he's talking about _working_ days, Rossi." – Muttered Reid. – "I guess you'll have to say goodbye to any weekend plans you might have had."

SSA Collins smirked evilly.

"I was told you're a genius. I'm glad at least one of you has understood me." – With that, he motioned for them to stand up and looked them over with clearly visible critical judgement in his eyes. – "Is that the way you two usually dress for work?" – He asked with a slightly disgusted undertone.

"Yes… It is. Sir."

"The clothes that you have brought with you in those enormous bags…" – He pointed towards their go bags with disdain. – "… are they of the same style?"

Reid was bewildered.

"Yes…?"

"Throw them out."

"WHAT!?"

Collins pressed a button on his desk and called for his secretary.

"That's no was to dress in _my_ unit. On the Boot Camp, you'll wear uniforms like every decent agent does. During your operation you'll wear what we'll provide you with. Ah, Sarah, thank you for coming. These two gentlemen don't need those bags anymore. Would you be so kind as to send them back up to the Behavioral Analysis Unit and tell Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner that there must surely have been a mistake. Tell him not to worry though, we'll handle it."

"Of course, sir." – She took the bags and disappeared without even one look at the two wide-eyed men standing right in front of her.

"But, sir… We have all our personal things in those bags!" – Exclaimed Rossi.

"We don't wear uniforms…" – Whispered Reid at the same time.

"While you're here you dress and do as I say, agents; your personalities are _mine_. I don't know how things work in the BAU but you're not there right now. Believe me: it's as unfortunate for me as it must be for you, but this is _my_ team and _my_ rules. Understood?" – At their collective nods, he continued somewhat more friendly, clapping his hands together. – "I know this must all come as a shock to you. But it's okay. If everything turns out as good as I hope it will, you'll be back with your own group within this year." – He had said it as if he had just declared world peace, but the other two were rendered speechless: this _year_!? It was still only March! – "Please, follow me. I'll show you to the SUV that will take you to the training camp right away."

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

The ride to the camp had appeared to last only for a minute, probably because both were in such a state of shock that they didn't realize anything that was going on around them. After getting out of the SUV (which was decidedly easier than usual without their heavy bags to carry around) they wouldn't even have been able to tell who their driver had been – for once, even Reid's normally infallible eidetic memory didn't do him any good.

They were standing at the gate, gaping at it like fish.

"Is that…?"

"Yes."

"No way."

"It would seem so…"

Their surprise was entirely valid too, as they were staring at nothing less than the huge sign that welcomed visitors at Fort McNair, Washington DC.

"We couldn't have been traveling that much, could we? I thought it was only ten minutes or so."

"Beats me…"

"Rossi… _What the hell are we doing here_?"

"I've got no idea…"

Fort Lesley J. McNair… Reid's mind supplied the disquieting (and mostly completely useless) facts immediately, like it always did: The military reservation had been established in 1791. The post had been renamed in 1948 to honor Lieutenant General Lesley J. McNair, commander of army ground forces during World War II, killed during Operation Cobra. Now it was the headquarters of the Army's Military District of Washington and home of the National Defense University, as well as the official residence of the U.S. Army's Vice Chief of Staff. It offered training. Very brutal military training, mostly to special forces… Not 21-year-old thin kids with awkward nervous ticks and serious trouble with basic marksmanship.

"I think I'm gonna be sick."


	4. It Can't Get Any Worse, Right?

**AN: Please, bear in mind that while Fort McNair, Washington DC, really exist, everything I write about it (what it looks like inside, rules and regulations, the training itself, the uniform, etc.) is solely the result of my own imagination and is only true as far as this story goes. :)**

 **So, it's an AU.**

 **It Can't Get Any Worse, Right?**

Ten minutes later they were still standing petrified in front of the camp and, apparently, their tardy entrance had taken longer than what the hosts considered normal under the circumstances.

One uniformed man approached them, holding up his ID that identified him as a security guard.

"Sirs, aren't you SSA Collins' new team members?" – At their slightly dazed nods, the guard continued. – "We've been told to expect you. Please, walk through the gates and find your appointed instructor and the rest of your team inside; you'll find that everything has already been prepared for your arrival."

"Ahm… When exactly did Collins decide to send us here…?" – Inquired Rossi, feeling suspicious. Could everything really happen that quickly?

" _Supervisory Special Agent Jasper Collins_ just informed us about an hour ago. Please, step into the camp, sirs." – With that, he turned on his heel to show them the way, clearly expecting the two to follow without further questions.

It looked like questioning the happenings wasn't accepted here any more than underground in the Quantico building.

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

They had been introduced to a young man – barely older than Reid himself – called 'Ralph'. He was, as he had sheepishly explained, the janitor of the whole place. He had the task to give them the grand tour around the camp, seeing that neither of the two guests had ever been here before.

So, they were showed where the canteen and the showers were located and where they'd be able to spend the little free time they'd get – providing there'd be any, of course.

"… and your quarters, sirs." – Their guide said, pointing at the door of a pint-sized bungalow standing amongst many others, all looking the same. Theirs bore a big red '143' on it; the numbers being the only way to tell the tiny houses apart.

"Huh, sorry, young man, but there must be a mistake. Surely, we don't have to share…" – Began Rossi, paling at the very thought of living with the kid in such a small room for four days.

The freckled boy looked taken aback for a moment and hesitated a while as if he were trying to figure out how to break the bad news to them.

"Usually, there are five to ten soldiers sharing a room here… Five in these smaller ones. Seeing that I was told the two of you are guests here and would only stay for a few days, I looked for a place that you can have only for yourselves; you won't even get anyone else here for the duration of your stay. But, I'm sorry, I couldn't provide you with individual accommodations. There aren't any more to spare and it's also not customary."

"It's all right. We appreciate your efforts very much." – Spencer hurriedly assured the helpful janitor, shooting a condemning look at his older colleague. This really wasn't the time to be a snob with the only person who had talked to them with anything akin to respect in his voice ever since this craziness had begun. – "Thank you." – He added for good measure, having a funny feeling that it would be essential to be on good terms with the young man to survive this mess.

Finally, Rossi seemed to realize his mistake as well.

"Yes, of course, this house will be just fine. Thank you, young man."

"You're welcome. Now, we'll need to take you to get your uniforms. This way, please."

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

To nobody's surprise, fitting the uniforms proved to be a problem.

"Ouch, you just stuck me with that pin for the third time in five minutes, young lady!"

"I'm so sorry, sir… Please, just hold still for a while and we'll be done soon…"

"I still can't see why we need to wear this… abomination… in the first place! We're profilers, we're not required to wear uniforms! Everyone knows that!" – Complained the older man for the umpteenth time that morning.

"Sir, I'm only doing what I was instructed to do… I'm not coming up with the rules. But everyone wears these while training here." – She tried again, visibly getting impatient.

Rossi just huffed in annoyance.

A few steps away, standing on a wooden box to be more accessible to the elderly lady working on his clothing, Reid wasn't doing any better.

"I don't understand…" – Complained the woman trying to find a fitting uniform for her young charge. – "Even the smallest size is falling off you." – She shook her head in disbelief. – "How can a soldier be that skinny?"

"I'm not a soldier! I'm a profiler!"

"Whatever… If they'll start sending in babies like you now, I swear I'll quit! Ah… We'll need to completely change these pants; not even a belt would help I'm afraid."

The genius mentally counted to ten… twice…, trying to prevent an outburst at being called a 'baby'. He was 21, for God's sake!

"It seems such a wasted effort for four days. I could just-"

"We were told to do it, so we're doing it."

Spencer sighed. Clearly, the matter was not up to debate.

"Yes, ma'am…"

About half an hour later both men left the building dressed in perfectly fitting black tactical pants, a light blue short-sleeved undershirt that made Rossi's tender skin feel all itchy and jammed, a dark blue pullover bearing their nametags and the Bureau's logo, a black FBI coat and shiny black hiking boots. And plain dark blue calf-length socks. _Matching_ dark blue calf-length socks. There wasn't even the slightest difference between the two halves of the pair! The boy had begged and begged to be allowed to at least get a plain black pair too and mismatch them but was cruelly vetoed by the strict lady. This fact in itself made Reid grumpier than anything that had happened to them up until now.

"I can't believe it! I haven't worn matching socks for over 18 years!" – He whined.

The senior profiler was trying and failing to loosen his T-shirt by his neck a bit, using his fingers to pull at the stiff clothes.

"I envy you that the socks are your biggest worry right now, Reid." – He hissed in pain when he accidentally scratched himself; and still: the materials refused to move. He gave up on the upper clothing, recognizing the lost cause for what it was, and started kicking out his legs comically instead. – "And I haven't had anything on my feet but the nicest Italian leather shoes for over 30 years! Can you imagine it? No, surely you can't. You're not even that old yet."

"But these are _matching socks_ , Rossi! They'll bring misfortune, I'm telling you!"

"Boy, look around ya! Just see where we are! What could be worse than this? There's no misfortune in the entire Universe that hasn't befallen us already!"

At that precise moment their guide, Ralph, appeared again. He studied their appearance before muttering 'this will have to do' under his breath and ushering them into a building that was much bigger and more luxurious than anything they had seen on the camp up until that point.

The young man knocked on a door and upon receiving a command to enter, did so, motioning for Rossi and Reid to follow as well.

"Commander Matthews, these are Agents Rossi and Reid reporting to you just the way you instructed they do." – He saluted then quickly retreated, closing the door behind him and leaving the two guests alone with the Commander.

The man didn't waste time on greetings.

"I'm going to be your drill instructor in the next four days. You'll be required to follow all my orders and to report to me everything that happens and might be of importance. You have been issued a standard military duffel bag and outfitted with all clothing and other necessary equipment you'll need during your short stay. You'll find all these in your quarters when you'll go back there in the evening. You'll have your training courses with the five members of the Organized Crime Unit of the FBI you'll have to closely work with on your assignment. Use this time to get to know them; you'll need to cooperate well. Any questions?"

"Sir-"

"I'm Commander Matthews and that's how you're to address me, Agent Rossi."

"Yes… ahm… Commander Matthews. Do you happen to know what our assignment will be? We haven't been told anything…"

"No, I don't and it's not for me to brief you. I'm sure SSA Collins, your current unit chief, will do it when the time is right. My job is to assess your abilities and to train you as much as it's possible in such a short time. Any more questions?" – Seeing that neither man was about to respond, he continued. – "Well, I hope you really understand everything because this was your last chance to ask questions. All right. Cell phones, please." – He instructed, holding out his right arm, palm open as if waiting for something.

"Excuse me?"

"Agent Rossi, do you have problems with your hearing?"

"No, sir. I mean: Commander Matthews. My hearing is just fine."

"That's reassuring to know. So, cell phones."

"But… Commander Matthews… why?"

"I told you there can't be any more questions. Cell phones!"

So, what else could they do? They reluctantly handed over their only way of communication to the man.

"Wonderful. You're to report at the main building in fifteen minutes along with your five teammates. We're going to do some land navigation exercises first."

He didn't offer anything more, so, taking this as dismissal, Rossi and Reid exited the office.

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

Outside, Ralph was waiting for them.

"Hey, do you know if there's a telephone booth or any kind of payphone here somewhere?" – Asked Spencer, hoping against hope they'd be able to call Hotch and plead with him until he'd do something to rescue them… No doubt he would. Hotch was a great boss. Not like these people… ahm… _monsters_ here. Of course, not having any money on them would be a problem but… they'd cross the bridge when they'd get there. He was sure he could make the thing work if he'd have the time to take it to pieces and put it back again-

"I'm sorry. Nothing like that. No communication is allowed with anyone outside." – Seeing their shocked expressions, he added helpfully: - "Don't worry though, you'll get used to it. Besides, four days aren't that long, right? Well, come on, I have to take you to meet the others. I hope you're ready for the fun to begin!"

'FUN!? Is this kid crazy?' – Thought Rossi darkly.

As they walked across the huge football field where a group of sweaty and dirty soldiers were practicing formations and assaults, all obviously exhausted, the young genius turned to his older colleague and whispered into his ear sourly:

"See? I told you: _misfortune_."

"Reid?"

"Yeah?"

"Do me a favor and just _shut up_."


	5. Strenghts and Weaknesses

**Strengths and Weaknesses**

When they arrived at the meeting point, the other five men were already waiting for them. This gave Rossi and Reid an opportunity to study their temporary teammates while nearing towards them: every one of them looked fit, well-trained and very professional as they stood at attention, apparently ready for action. Anticipating it even. Also, what was very funny: they all looked to be of the same height – give or take an inch or so –, the same age and the same built. They also had the same crew cut, were all clean-shaven and wore the same uniform… Carbon copies of each other and Rossi wondered how the hell they were supposed to tell them apart to learn their names. (Unless they shared a name too; that would certainly make things much easier…) One thing was for sure: they were the living image of the proper soldiers. Everything the profilers – especially the youngest – weren't, and no amount of playing dress-up could help them with that. It was a miracle no one had requested that Spencer cut his hair or Rossi shave to fit protocol. Well, yet, anyway.

None of these made them feel any better about what was to come.

Reid, having already forgotten his colleague's warning about staying quiet, whispered into Rossi's ear again:

"Do you think they're even _real_? They look more like robots…"

The senior profiler just groaned.

"Gentlemen." – Began Ralph. – "That's where I'll leave you. Just join your teammates and the Commander will be with you shortly."

"Thanks." – Muttered Spencer, slightly dazed, as they made the last few steps alone to meet their fate.

As soon as they were close enough, the others – moving as one – turned towards them. The closest man to them reached out to shake Rossi's hand first.

"Supervisory Special Agent Ian O'Connell."

"SSA David Rossi. This is Doctor Spencer Reid."

"Doctor? Wow. But you're an agent, aren't you?"

"Huh…" – Spencer was surprised at the casual, even friendly voice the man was using when talking to them; he had expected the same professional distance they'd received from everyone else, except for the kind janitor. – "Yep. I am. SSA, actually." – He said, giving each his trademark nervous wave. No way was he going to shake hands… No, thanks.

The men looked surprised for a second (if it was because his rank at such a young age or his behavior, Reid didn't know and didn't really care either) but then continued introducing themselves as if nothing had happened, shaking hands with Rossi and nodding/waving at the genius.

"Dean Kennedy."

"Simon Bechdel."

"Marshall Wilder."

"Walker Ford. Don't worry if you can't remember all our names at first." – He said, winking. – "We'll spend enough time together for you to get to know us properly."

"I already feel better." – Muttered Reid sarcastically, then winced when Rossi kicked him in the leg.

The five men just smiled at each other knowingly, not looking particularly bothered about the unusual display.

"So." – The man called Simon clapped his hands together enthusiastically, professional stance instantly disappearing. – "Have you been told what's to come?"

"Not really…"

"Today, we'll begin with a land navigation course, or: 'orienteering'. We'll be divided into two groups, each get a compass, a map and some water, and they'll leave us in the middle of the woods somewhere. We're not allowed to talk to anyone and we'll have to write a report about how we found our way afterwards so that there's no cheating." – The one called Dean explained kindly.

"How will they make the two groups? There's seven of us…"

"That's no problem. We'll have a draw."

"Oh, _fantastic_. With my luck…" – Lamented Reid, thinking about his socks with disdain once again.

The members of the Organized Crime Unit looked at him questioningly but Rossi just shook his head.

"Don't mind him."

"May I ask how old you are?" – Inquired Ian with a friendly smile, showing the boy that he wasn't about to make fun of him. – "Just because you look really young…"

"I'm 21."

Walker and Marshall whistled, while Dean said:

"Wow. That's pretty cool."

The young man shrugged nonchalantly, not enjoying being the center of attention.

The others apparently realized his discomfort because they started a conversation about one of their latest assignments during which they had managed to catch a whole drug cartel operating within the U.S.

That was when Commander Matthews finally arrived, announcing it was time to get into the military van.

They did so and when the doors were all closed, the two newcomers noted with some amount of trepidation that they couldn't see where they were going.

"This is so that we won't know where they're taking us." – Explained Walker. – "They might even take wrong turns and unnecessary delays so that we can't guess by the travel time and the movements either."

"Oh, dear…"

"Don't worry, it'll be fine."

"Sure it will be…"

It took about an hour and a half and lots of bumps and turns until they were finally allowed to get out of their uncomfortable prison, just to find themselves… in the middle of nowhere. Literally. There was nothing but trees, trees and trees.

"I don't think we're in Kansas anymore, Toto." – Gasped Rossi in awe but quickly quieted upon seeing the disapproving look of their Commander. He looked around and saw that the team (minus Reid and himself, of course who were always late to catch up in this new situation) was back to the perfectly professional behavior with absolutely no trace of the earlier light-hearted air. Was everyone schizophrenic here, or what?

"It's time to form groups." – Announced Matthews, presenting a tiny bag. – "I wrote everyone's name on a piece of paper. I'm going to pick the two team leaders first. The leaders will be responsible for their team and the ones who will have to hand in the presentation by tomorrow noon. It doesn't mean that they will work on it alone! Also, they'll get a watch that shows the time and can give SOS signals if activated. But beware: calling for help is considered giving up the game and if you do it without good reason, there'll be consequences!" – He warned, before reaching into the bag blindly and pulling out a small slip. – "SSA O'Connell!"

"Aye, sir!"

"You'll be one of the leaders."

"Aye, sir!"

Their trainer picked another name.

"SSA Ford! You're the other one!"

"Aye, sir!"

"Come here. The two of you will take turns picking names. O'Connell begins. Please, read out the name clearly and loudly for everyone to hear."

"SSA Marshall Wilder."

"SSA Wilder, step up and stand behind your team leader, please. SSA Ford, you'll go next."

"SSA Simon Bechdel."

They continued this pattern until the teams stood up like that: Team A consisted of Ian O'Connell, Dean Kennedy, Marshall Wilder and Reid, while Team B was formed by Walker Ford, Simon Bechdel and Rossi.

Spencer felt shock and panic rising upon the realization that he'd become separated from his teammate. Then again, he could have sworn he saw signs of relief on the older man's face… It made his stomach churn and he was glad he hadn't eaten anything that day yet. He didn't think he'd could have kept it down after such a blunt display of hatred towards his person from the only man he had thought he could trust in this crazy place.

"Each team gets a compass and a rough map. Not detailed, mind you. Your tasks are written there, you'll finds there'll be four stations to find for each team. You're not to communicate with anyone and you're to only collect the hidden objects meant for your own team. They're all at places where tourists have no way of finding them, and you'll have to work hard to get them. I expect both teams back at the marked meeting point by no later than 5 PM. We'll have other tasks to do today, so do not be late. Good luck, everyone. Timing begins… NOW."

So, the two teams separated and scattered into the directions they hoped to find the first object at.

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

"Hey! You all right? You look a bit pale…" – Ian observed their new addition worriedly, thinking that a military training might just prove to be more than this frail boy could handle… - "Have you ever done anything like that before?" – He asked, completely misunderstanding Reid's dark mood.

"No."

"Are you cold? Hungry? Well, not that we could do anything about these now… Are you thirsty though? We've got water!"

"I'm fine. Thanks."

"Oookay…" – He looked at his other teammates for help, not really sure what to do and how to help the kid.

Dean flung an arm around Reid's shoulders (completely ignoring the kid's flinch at the uninvited invasion of his personal space).

"You do know that we won't let you get hurt, don't you? Really, kid. We might not know much about the BAU, but we do know you're not the traditional soldiers. And nobody expects you to be. You've been invited because we need your expertise and not because we want to change your ways."

Reid gently wriggled out of the hug.

"Why are we here then? By _here_ I mean the camp. If you need our expertise then shouldn't we be doing our job instead of parading on a training we don't need and certainly don't want?"

Marshall, who up until now had been walking beside them silently, sighed.

"You have a point. We actually don't understand it ourselves. We weren't scheduled for a training now either. You could say, it came as a shock for us too. But we're here and we're going to be all right, okay?"

Realizing he was being rude to people who were nice to him and who weren't to blame for his unfavorable situation, the young profiler hung his head in shame.

"It's okay. I'm sorry for me attitude. I guess I'm not handling this very well. We just got the news about this assignment yesterday and now I'm here, wearing a uniform with _matching socks_ , walking in the middle of a forest I've never been to, and feeling like I should probably start singing 'Into the Woods' songs…"

Ian and Marshall raised an eyebrow, and Dean chuckled.

"Okay, I think we get it. You're funny, kid. Tell me: what kind of doctor are you?"

"Ahm…" – Reid blushed. – "I have several degrees, actually. Ahm… PhDs in Chemistry, Engineering an Mathematics. BAs in Psychology, Sociology, and Philosophy. I'm working on taking these further as well. Not that I have much time between all the traveling and work we do, mind you…"

"Wow! Are you a genius or something…?"

The boy's blush deepened as he explained shyly:

"I don't really believe in this whole 'genius'-thing… But yeah… That's what they usually call me… Although, at other times, they'll just say 'freak'."

"Your teammates!?"

"No, just… people."

"Oh. Well… You're something, Genius Boy but certainly not a freak!"

Just then, they stopped to study the map, trying to make sense of it. Well, Marshall and Dean did. Ian was still eyeing the boy as if he were seeing a new species he hadn't even heard of before.

"I can't make sense of it! Shall we go this way…" – Marshall complained, pointing to the right. – "… or this way?" – He pointed to the left.

Ian joined them and now all three were trying to turn the paper into a direction that would maybe make it look more informative somehow.

"I have no idea. I hate these tasks…" – Stated Dean, visibly irritated with the lack of progress they were making.

"Ahm… We have to walk for about half a mile straight ahead and then turn slightly to the right to reach our first destination…" – Whispered Reid carefully, not knowing if he was allowed to make a suggestion or not.

Seeing the dumbfounded expressions of the others, he thought maybe he should have stayed quiet.

"How do you know?" – Asked Marshall as soon as he had managed to find his voice again.

"I looked at the map when we got it…"

"But this map isn't right!"

"It is… well, actually, you're holding it upside down right now… Well…"

Dean quickly turned it around, not that it looked any better to him like this than it had before.

"So you looked at it when we got it… what, half an hour ago? And you still remember?" – Clarified Ian.

Reid was feeling increasingly uncomfortable with all the attention he was getting.

"I… khm… I have an eidetic memory…"

"Cool!"

"I know I'm- Wait, what? You think it's _cool_? Not 'creepy' or 'freaky' or 'abnormal'…?" – He couldn't believe it. After all the teasing he had gotten from Morgan and… well. Everyone. But especially Morgan. ("Would it hurt you to be normal just for once?")

"Why would I think any of these? It's brilliant! And are you any good at navigation too?"

"I think I can manage. I'm the one responsible for drawing up the geographic profile. That is basically working with the map all the time. Actually, I have a pretty good idea where we are."

"You do!? And where are we?"

"The Prince William Forest Park. It's pretty close to D.C. too, so you weren't kidding when you talked about taking unnecessary bypasses."

"But how do you know? You said you've never been here before?" – Marveled Marshall, honestly very impressed. He was liking the kid more and more each minute.

"No, I haven't. But as I said: I work with the map all the time. I can hear the creek nearby. There should be a bridge to cross to our second object. Not to mention that there's nothing else near Washington DC we could have reached in that time, so it made sense to think it must be something that's nearer. This is the only option that makes sense. And if I'm correct, we just need to find the things in the right order and we'll be out of the woods in the end, near the meeting point. It shouldn't take long, assuming we can actually find the objects and they're not hidden too much or already taken…"

"You're the best! I mean it! Will you show the way?"

"Yeah… Why not? Come on!" – Maybe it wasn't going to be so bad after all?

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

Meanwhile, Rossi's group wasn't faring very well without a smart aleck kid to help them out.

"I don't believe it. Is this even a real map? It looks more like a child's random drawing!" – Complained Simon, shaking his head.

"Let me see." – Said Walker and taking the map from his colleague's hands, started turning it every way possible. – "It's crazy…" – He muttered after a few minutes. – "It's usually easier to understand… Are you two good at this, David? Is that the reason this task got more complicated now?"

"Well, the kid is… I bet they already have their first object…"

They started walking into a direction that seemed promising.

"Really? How come such a young boy can even be with you? Isn't there a minimal age requirement for the BAU? There is for us… We couldn't have a 21-year-old."

"I don't really understand it myself… But he's a real genius, so I guess certain allowances are made for people like him."

"Just how smart _is_ he?" – Inquired Simon.

"Frighteningly so." – Replied Rossi, remembering all the times the kid had amazed him with his knowledge and skills. – "He has an unnatural amount of degrees, he reads faster than anyone I've ever seen, he speaks several languages without even having to think about them, he can do difficult mathematical equations in his head quicker than any computer or calculator could…" – He listed. – "Oh, and he makes our geographical profiles, so there's pretty much no place in the US he hasn't studied on the map thoroughly."

Walker groaned.

"I don't supposed we have a chance at that game then, do we?"

"Nope, sorry." – Answered Rossi lightly, not really caring about points and competitions. He actually enjoyed walking in the forest so freely. As far as he was concerned, they could just spend their time talking and exploring, never caring about looking for stupid hidden things. Ever since he had returned to the BAU, he hadn't really had time to just enjoy the nature without looking at dead bodies and gathering evidence all over the place.

"So… What do profilers really do, David?"

"Well… Basically, we investigate and research the behavior of serial killers by building a 'profile' about them. With that, we can draw conclusions that help us find and catch them. Like for example when we figure out how old the killer is, it it's a female or male, of what race they are, etc."

"That sounds very difficult! How can you do this when you have nothing to work with?"

"Oh, we always have something to work with! We have the victims. The environment. Little details. The patterns. They're always there, you just have to learn to see them."

"Incredible. Is it true that you were one of the first profilers?"

"Yes." – Said Rossi proudly. He was the father of that division and he could be prouder of what his baby had grown into.

"It's not a surprise this job would require a more diverse team than ours. The presence of the kid isn't that mind-blowing if he has the right abilities."

"That's right. We have the most irregular people there, for sure. We have a technical analyst who wouldn't seem out of place in a hippy disco. We have a beautiful and young media liaison who's not even an agent but brilliant nonetheless. We have an ex-cop who sometimes has anger management issues, especially when it comes to our unit chief's decisions. Other bosses would probably have already fired him for disobeying orders but not Hotch. He encourages our unique thinking and personalities, even if it means he has to answer to Strauss all the time. We also have a female agent who could give any guy a run for his money when it comes to fighting and shooting."

"And the kid."

"And the kid, yes. I'm the newest member in this current setting; I just came out of retirement. So, I'm not sure I entirely understand the dynamics myself but with that boy it seems to be as much a challenge of raising a child as it's working with a colleague. Quite interesting and it doesn't seem to bother anyone.

The two Organized Crime Unit members nodded in recognition.

"I hear you. It's certainly not your usual FBI team."

"No, it's not. And that's why this…" – Rossi motioned around. – "Is so unfamiliar for us. Tell me about your unit!"

Simon thought for a moment.

"Hm… Well, there's fifteen of us but we mostly work in these groups of five. We currently do not have female members but used to. Before she left to pursue another career. I can understand it; our job is really not easy. It's very physically demanding."

Walter quickly assured.

"Don't worry, you won't be made to do the real hard stuff. Well, hopefully…"

Simon rolled his eyes at his friend's tactless words and continued, trying to get the other man's mind off his worries.

"I believe you have already guessed there's more to our team than what's known about us _upstairs_ …" – He said mystically, referring to the fact that they were housed on the deepest underground level of the Quantico building that in itself was a secret, let alone the way this unit worked.

"There's not much we know about you." – Admitted the senior profiler. – "Your unit chief isn't exactly friendly with the other team leaders either. Doesn't offer much when they meet."

Both men smiled knowingly at that.

"I should think not. Our very existence is mostly top secret. Of course, the name 'Organized Crime Unit' is just a cover. That's not really what we do. Or, at least, doesn't even begin to describe it."

"I'm not sure how much we're allowed to tell you though… Probably not anything more."

Rossi tried to close his mouth that was hanging open in surprise. He blinked. He had never thought there was such an elite, secret group within the FBI they didn't even know about!

"Can you at least tell me about the assignment Reid and I will be expected to do?" – He asked after a moment of gaping.

"No, sorry. We know what it is, of course, but we're not allowed to tell. Jasper will brief you when it's time." – Answered Simon apologetically.

Walker returned his attention at the map.

"And I still don't know where we are…"

Rossi understood then that the subject of the Organized Crime Unit's everyday workings was officially closed for now.

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

"But Genius Boy said it should be here! And he hasn't been wrong yet!" – Stated Ian, referring to the first two objects they had found without problems already. Well, 'without problems' might be a bit of an understatement. It was not counting the boar that had chased Marshall after he had gotten the little FBI pendant out of its sleeping place or the difficulties Dean had faced when he had climbed up to the top of a huge tree for the hour glass that had been hidden there.

But all these didn't count now, because _now_ , they couldn't even find what they were looking for.

"I trust him! It must be here! Look for it!" – Said Marshall.

"Look, guys." – Said Reid, pointing at a bush. – "These flowers shouldn't bloom at that time of the year… not here anyway."

The other three looked at each other. They were getting used to the boy randomly spouting out facts that just came to his unique mind they didn't have the slightest hope to ever understand.

"Great, so this bush doesn't seem to have read the books…" – Shrugged Dean and continued looking for the object. It didn't help that they had no idea what exactly they were looking for.

Reid was getting agitated, like all the other times he felt like people weren't making the most logical and simple connections between the known facts. Of course, he didn't know that these connections were only jumping out to him, nobody else…

"No, that's not what I meant!" – He said, wildly waving around his long arms while explaining. – "This bush _can't be here_!"

Ian was getting worried for their new friend. Maybe the stress was beginning to be too much for the kid? Should they call for help and give the task up?

"Ahm… But kid… The bush _is_ here…"

"NO!"

"No?" – Now, they were really alarmed.

"No! Well, yes, okay, it here _now_. But it wasn't here before!" – Seeing that the others still didn't get it, Spencer took a deep breath. He reminded himself of what Gideon used to tell him whenever he'd gotten carried away like this: 'Calm down, slow down, try again. Easy, son. Just remember: not everyone is a genius, our brains don't work that quickly. Give us a chance. We want to understand you. We care about what you have to say.' Of course, thinking about his mentor sent a painful stab into his heart, but he ignored it and explained a bit more: - "This bush wouldn't be full of flowers in March here. It can only be if it was recently planted. And look: the soil under and around it looks disturbed. Like it was haphazardly thrown back into place not so long ago. It couldn't look like this any other way since there hasn't been any rain for days."

Slowly, it was starting to sink in.

"You mean… Are you saying that…"

"Yes! Whatever we're looking for, is hidden _underneath_! It's buried and the bush has only been brought here to hide it."

"Oh, shit. So, who's going to dig it out then?"

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

It was barely ten minutes later when a mud-covered Ian climbed out of the small hole he had created and triumphantly held up what appeared to be a golden coin for everyone to see.

"Bingo!" – He shouted excitedly, looking for all the world like a little child playing 'pirate' in the dirt. – "Genius Boy was right!"

Spencer blushed as he pushed the poor neglected bush aside. He knew there was no way to preserve it now but he couldn't for the life of him figure out why anyone would do that to a beautiful living creature. Yes, plants were living creatures in his eyes. He was beginning to regret solving the puzzle; if he hadn't, they wouldn't have dug it out of its place.

"So, Kid, which way now?" – Asked Dean, patting the genius' head approvingly, like you would do with a purring kitten.

The young man stepped away and looked around quickly, before stating:

"To the North for another mile, afterwards we'll turn to the right and there'll be the next and last object. And it's the edge of the woods already, not far from the meeting point. We should make it with plenty of time to spare."

"Cool, let's go!" – Marshall shouted, already on his way into the indicated direction. He was enjoying working with the eccentric boy more and more. They hadn't once opened the map since he had taken over navigating, not to mention they hadn't had to use the compass at all. The boy always just _knew_ the direction somehow.

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

"Who came up with this stupid… grrr… outrageous… puff… awful-"

"Okay, okay, Simon, we get it, all right: you hate land navigation exercises. You've said that a few times already." – Walker scolded his teammate irritated, thinking that as the appointed team leader he should at least attempt to keep things halfway professional. Not that it was working.

"Well, then why don't _you_ try to get that wrenched pen out of that vicious monster's nest, hmm?" – Groaned Simon from his position on top of a messy mound, where he had been wrestling with a protective mother bird for a good quarter of an hour now, trying and failing to explain to it that he only wanted the object they'd been sent to retrieve, not her eggs. Apparently, the bird either didn't understand or didn't care. Or both. – "This animal is _crazy_ , without a doubt!"

"Wouldn't _you_ try to protect your home from an invasion like that?" – Asked Rossi brightly, sitting on a trunk of a fallen tree, sipping from the bottle of water and observing the happenings leisurely. – "I'd say it's quite an understandable behavior on the bird's part."

Simon just shot the older man a dirty look (figuratively and literally, since his whole face was covered in mud already where the bird had hit him with its small but strong wings) that that caused the senior profiler to laugh out loud.

"I… OUCH! I've got it!" – Panted the unfortunate special agent, still battling the avenging lady bird as he hopped down, holding the pen in his bloody and bruised hands. – "One down. Three more to go. Oh, how I hate-"

"We know, Simon. We know. Let's go."

And with that, it was back to studying the map and fighting with the compass yet again.

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

"This. Was. Plain. Brilliant. You never cease to amaze us, Genius Boy." – Whistled Marshall appreciatively, having just witnessed Reid fishing a ring out of the water without even going near it, let alone _into_ it.

"It was nothing…"

"Nothing? NOTHING!? In just two minutes you built a fishing rod out of some branches, created fishing line out of grass, attached some animal claw for hook, and you had the ring on first try! How is that even possible!?"

"And furthermore…" – Continued Dean, still remembering his own struggles from before. – "… why didn't we think of this when I had to climb up the tree?" – He asked darkly.

Reid didn't know how to handle the praise, so he shrugged and motioned towards the main road they could see from their position.

"Shall we get out now that we have everything?"

"Hell, yes!"

"But what will we do? We still have two hours until we're to meet the Commander. He won't be here yet." – Asked Ian, checking his watch. – "Does someone have any idea?"

"Well, let's just walk around then. Nobody expected us to finish this soon." – Said Marshall and the others agreed.

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

Agonizingly long two hours later Walker's Tram B emerged from the forest, each member looking exhausted and royally pissed off.

Team A was sitting at the edge of the road, waiting for them, talking among themselves and looking… content and relaxed.

"Hey!" – Greeted Ian the newcomers warmly. – "How did it go?"

"Don't you talk about this. Don't you even mention it. Don't remind us." – Warned Simon with narrowed eyes, giving off the impression of an enraged dragon ready to breathe fire.

"Okay…"

Spencer turned to Rossi questioningly.

"You all right?"

"Pffff." – Was all the answer he got.

At that precise moment the van appeared and they were all ushered inside again to be brought back into the boot camp. The Commander gave them a calculating look and took the objects; all four from Team A but only one from Team B.

As soon as the door was closed and they were safely inside, out of the sight of their ever observant drill sergeant, Marshall, Reid and Dean opened their coats to reveal…

"Pretzels. For you." – Said Ian as an explanation. – "See, we thought about you all."

"But… but… You didn't have money!" – Marveled Walker, taking the offered food gratefully.

"We didn't need money. The elderly lady took one look at Genius Boy here and instantly got us more food than we could possibly eat in a year." – Explained Marshall laughing.

Dean continued.

"Yeah, she said he needed to be fattened up because a stronger wind could blow him away. She also threatened to send a written complaint to the FBI about employing and torturing _babies_."

Reid groaned.

"Don't listen to them. She only gave us food because of the uniforms." – He said with conviction. Of course, nobody believed him if the knowing smiles were anything to go by. He groaned again.

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

As soon as they arrived (this time it only took the necessary amount of time), the Commander announced they were to begin going through the daily obstacle course.

Spencer and Rossi paled considerably at that, while the others seemed to have expected it and were already headed towards the field.

"What are you two waiting for? MOVE!"

"Aye, Commander…"

This particular obstacle course included everything there was to think of (except for swimming): running, climbing, jumping, crawling and balancing elements… None of these appealed to either profiler in the least.

"Rossi… Oh, God! Rossi…" – The young man was very clearly panicking.

"I know, Reid… I know…"

Another hour later the five Organized Crime Unit members were already done and off to shower, while Rossi was somewhere halfway along the course and Reid… well, it shouldn't be mentioned at all.

The Commander wasn't impressed to say the least.

"I will let is slide only this once, and only because of both of your ages. You, young man, have serious problems with your endurance and stamina. If you hadn't fared so well earlier today, you'd spend all night out here to finish this task as a punishment. As it is, I'll have to have some serious words with your unit chief about toughening you up some. Off you go." – He spat with a last condemning look at them before retreating, leaving an offended Rossi and an ashamed Reid behind.

As they walked dejectedly back to their bungalow, Rossi could see that his young colleague was depressed over what had happened.

"Hey… you do know that Hotch won't care, right? We're profilers, we don't need this kind of training anyway." – He tried to console the boy.

"Yeah…"

"I hear you were brilliant on that land navigation. You should be proud. All the others are very impressed."

"Whatever…"

"Kiddo… Listen." – Rossi said, stopping the genius by placing both arms on his shoulders and turning the young man towards him, forcing their eyes to meet. – "We all have our strengths and weaknesses. And you were better today than I was. There is nothing for you to be ashamed of. Capito?"

Reid had to smile at that. These were probably the first genuinely kind words he'd heard from the oldest profiler in… well: ever.

"Thanks, Rossi. I think I'll go have a shower."

"Okay." – But Reid didn't move; he just stood, watching the building that held the bathrooms warily. – "What is it?"

"Ahm… do you think… you know… that it's… ahm… _safe_?"

The older man had to think for a while about what the kid meant before it dawned on him.

"Oh! You've never had to use public showers before, have you?"

"Not really…" – Admitted the boy with reluctance. – "Even when I was at the college, I was so much younger than everyone else, they didn't want to risk me getting hurt so I got a private room with a bathroom in the area where the professors lived… The perks of being a child prodigy, I guess…"

"Would you like me to go with you?" – Offered the senior profiler.

"Ahm…" – The boy blushed again, probably for the hundredth time that day.

"I'll wait outside, guarding the entrance." – Added the older man smiling.

"Oh! Okay! Thanks, Rossi. I'll be quick!"

"It's fine, Kiddo."


	6. New Obstacles to Overcome

**New Obstacles to Overcome**

"Has anyone heard from Reid or Rossi?" – Asked the usually cool-headed Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner with mild panic in his voice as soon as he entered the bullpen half-running and discovered the rest of the team (minus the two borrowed members of course) already present.

"No, we were just talking about them." – Admitted Morgan worriedly. – "I've been trying to call the Kid since yesterday evening: nothing."

"Yeah, and Rossi isn't picking up his phone either." – Said Garcia. – "I've tried tracing their cells but they seem to be turned off or out of range… I just don't get it."

"They promised to call yesterday…" – Informed them Hotch. – "But they didn't and I can't reach them either."

"Do you think we should be worried? Isn't it possible that they just have lots to deal with? They're in a completely new environment after all…" – Tried JJ but her eyes betrayed her real feelings: she was concerned as well.

"It's possible…" – But the unit chief didn't look very convinced.

"Ahm… Hotch?" – Began Emily hesitantly. – "Can we talk… Privately, I mean."

Ignoring the others' curious stares, the boss nodded in consent and motioned her to follow into his office. Once inside, both agents sat down on the couch by the small coffee table (Hotch hoped it would make her feel more at ease than having a desk between them when she apparently had such a hard time saying what she wanted to), and he waited patiently for her to begin.

It took a moment before she managed to open her mouth.

"I… There's something I haven't told you."

"Yes?" – Hotch asked kindly, showing her that it was all right; he wouldn't be mad.

"I sort of… khm… _workedwiththemforawhile_ …"

Hotch blinked.

"Sorry?"

"I said I worked with them. The Organized Crime Unit. That has Rossi and Reid now…"

"Oh! You did? I didn't know. There was nothing about it in your file…" – He said, trying to remember if he had ever heard about that part of Prentiss' past.

"You wouldn't know because there really wasn't anything about it anywhere. This Unit is… well. I don't really know how to say it… They're _different_."

"What do you mean?" – She just shook her head and Hotch felt his heart speeding up a bit. – "Prentiss: are Dave and Spencer in danger with them?"

She looked anywhere but at her unit chief as she replied.

"They might be… Rossi is too old for the kind of action they do there. Or at least for the intensity of it. And Reid… well… he's too…

"Young?"

"That and too _Reid_. I can't even begin to imagine him with them."

Hotch closed his eyes for a moment, trying to calm himself before he'd explode and run all the way to the Director's office to demand his people back. That certainly wouldn't help them now.

"I'm not really allowed to say much…" – Seeing the man's strict expression, she quickly changed her mind. – "Ahm… They're very well-trained and extremely professional. They handle operations like drug raids and attacks against terrorist groups." – Hotch paled visibly at that. – "And it's not everything. They usually prepare for these for long months. Years, even. They go undercover, become part of the target. It's risky… It was too much for me, I wasn't there for long. I like action but that was… something else. Not what we do at all. And the training… it's excessive." – She finished heatedly.

The unit chief studied her thoughtfully.

"Why haven't I heard about any of this before?" – He asked finally.

"Because it's top secret, even within the FBI. They're here, in this building, but completely invisible most of the time. And if you meet them just randomly walking on the street, you wouldn't tell they're even agents. They're chameleons, the masters of camouflage."

"You mean, Rossi and Reid are here even now? In this very building? Could we go and talk to them?"

"I'm not sure… I don't think they were requested to simply sit in an office. They have more than enough people for that. I actually can't imagine what they might want with them…"

"Nobody has told me anything! Is that normal?"

"With this unit? Yes. They won't tell you and they won't let our friends contact us either." – She admitted. – "Their cells have probably already been confiscated and they won't have access to e-mails or anything to send a message with. Not in the beginning, anyway. They… need to prove themselves first, especially because they're outsiders. The possible 'weakest links'."

"What!? Can they do that?"

"They can do anything, Hotch. I mean it: _anything_."

"And if I talk with the Director?"

Emily sighed.

"It won't help. This unit has an incredible amount of autonomy; Supervisory Special Agent Jasper Collins has much more rights than any other unit chief. I'm sorry, Hotch… I should have told you yesterday… Maybe you could have stopped them from going then."

The boss looked like he had aged ten years in the last ten minutes.

"What do you suggest we do?"

"We can't do anything for Rossi and Reid now, so I'd say… Maybe the others shouldn't be told? Not yet… There's no reason for all of us to worry, is there?"

"I don't like keeping secrets within our team. It would suggest distrust." – He sighed. – "But you're right: we shouldn't rush things. First, I'll try to find out as much as I can. Thank you for telling me."

She nodded and left quietly, leaving Hotch sitting there, completely at loss for what to do. He had two of his people… his _family_ … stuck in a situation they most probably weren't ready for. Especially not Reid. He was just a kid, for God's sake, who would even think about putting him with a team like that!? What did they want his people to do? How could he help them?

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

It was 5:30 AM and Rossi and Reid had just arrived at the canteen where they'd been told the breakfast would be served. And sure enough: on a long table they could see a wide range of food and beverages on display and some other agents already filling their plates eagerly.

There were different types of sliced bread to go with butter, jam or honey. There was also cheese, meat, muffins, croissants, pastries, rolls… It looked more like a five-star hotel's selection than what you'd expect of a boot camp.

"Wow, a continental breakfast! Not bad at all!" – Marveled Rossi and instantly made a beeline towards the crepes and, after some serious debate, chose three with various fillings. – "The whole torture might just become worth is!" – He announced with a big smile, taking an apple and an orange as well. – "I can't wait to see what lunch will be like after this!"

"There usually isn't time for lunch." – Answered Simon who had suddenly appeared beside the senior profiler out of nowhere, making the older man jump in surprise and drop the fork he had just selected. – "Sorry." – Of course, he didn't look apologetic at all.

"What do you mean there's no lunch? Are we supposed to go the whole day without food?" – Asked Rossi, completely ignoring the other agents' smirks at his clumsiness.

It was Ian who answered.

"Why do you think we get such a royal breakfast? I advise you to use it well."

"Hey, Genius Boy!" – Called Dean. – "You don't really want to skip the food in favor of coffee, do you? You'll need your energy…" – He warned the boy, eyeing as he poured an unnatural amount of sugar into it.

Spencer just shrugged. He'd had such a horrible night, he couldn't care less about energy and food right now. He knew, if he didn't get his daily portion of caffeine like right in this instant, he'd fall asleep on spot.

All five Organized Crime Unit members filled their plates and showed their new friends to their usual table.

"We always sit here. It's closest to the brownies, so we can get them before others take all." – Explained Walker with his mouth full.

"Shall I get you some, Kid? You look like you could use the calories." – Observed Marshall, shaking his head at the genius' continued denial of anything that wasn't coffee. – "It's not healthy to starve yourself."

"No, thanks. I'm all set."

"Pff."

"So, what's on the agenda for today, do we know?" – Inquired Simon, beginning to munch on his second enormous sandwich.

"We'll need to finish our reports about yesterday's task so that I can hand it in by noon." – Reminded Ian, addressing especially his 'Team A'. – "Genius Boy, I could use your help; I still don't really have an idea how we did half of what we did…"

"No problem."

"That's true for us too, guys." – Sighed Walker at the painful memory. – "Not that we have much to report, mind you…"

"Oh, look!" – Exclaimed Rossi. – "They've just brought some more croissants! I bet they're still hot! I'll go get some… Excuse me."

Dean followed him and they filled their plates again with everything they hadn't tried yet.

"Does he always eat that much?" – Asked Ian the stunned Reid. – "Because Dean does. Heaven only knows how he can stay that fit."

"I've never seen Rossi like that before. Then again, I don't really know him yet…"

Simon whipped his head around at that.

"How come? Aren't you on the same team?"

"We are. But he's new. We had someone else before him. He was like a father…" – The boy trailed off, not wanting to go there now.

"… and Rossi's not like that…?" – Guessed Marshall, secretly sharing a look with the others. That would explain a lot of the boy's behavior…

Reid's sad silence was answer enough.

The two men returned, and Dean dropped a plate bearing a giant cinnamon roll in front of their youngest member.

"No arguments; eat up. You won't be able to perform today if you're hungry. Believe me."

Spencer studied the food with some distrust before taking a bite.

"Hmm. That's actually quite tasty." – He admitted. – "Listen… Do you always wear these uniforms here…? Just these?"

Ian raised an eyebrow.

"Well, we have jumpsuits for certain tasks and we need to wear sneakers at the shooting range… but yeah, generally we wear these. Why, is there something wrong?"

Rossi answered for his younger colleague.

"He was disappointed to only find the same plain black socks in the duffel bag."

"Ahm… I'm not sure I understand…"

"Junior here doesn't like matching socks." – Explained the senior profiler while cutting the apple to small, equal pieces. – "He wanted to mix them but it doesn't work if they all look the same." – He had said it as if this was the most logical thing in the world.

The Organized Crime Unit members just blinked for a while, looking from one new member to the other, but neither offered anything more.

"Khm… Okay, so, today there'll be some wall climbing exercises and, in the afternoon, tower jump." – Listed Walker who had their call sheet, quickly changing the subject to a, hopefully, safer one.

No such luck though.

Spencer dropped the cinnamon roll he had just started to devour with gusto, and stared wide eyed for a moment before bursting out in a hysterical laughter.

"Hehehe! Rossi, it's hilarious! I heard something nobody could have said. Do you think I'm starting to hear things now? Hehehehehe…"

Dean leaned closer to Simon and whispered into his ear.

"Do you think he's all right?"

"I don't know… I don't know much about kids. Let alone genius ones."

Rossi gaped.

"If you're starting to hallucinate then I'm right there with you, Kiddo. I could swear I heard Walker say: wall climbing and tower jump. But it can't be, can it?"

"Let me guess: you have never done any of these, have you?"

"You could be a profiler, Marshall…" – Mutter Reid under his breath, playing with his cinnamon roll half-heartedly, appetite already gone again.

"What was that, Genius Boy?"

"Nothing…"

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

"Nothing! Absolutely _nothing_! I can't get the Director to tell me _anything_!" – Raged Hotch. Of course, as unit chief, he did it very gracefully… At least he wanted to believe so.

Morgan, Garcia and JJ just watched him in surprise, while Emily hung her head, avoiding eye contact with the others. She was the only one who knew what the anger of their boss really meant: that their teammates were out there, doing who knew what with a group that was notorious for getting their members killed or seriously injured.

As she watched Hotch dejectedly disappear in his office, no doubt blaming himself for not being able to help his subordinates, she made a mental note to try and use some old connections to get in touch with SSA Collins.

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

Rossi and Reid stood side by side in front of the wall they were supposed to climb, staring at it in disbelief. They both held the jumpsuit they needed to wear in their hands, hanging limply to the ground. They just couldn't believe it.

"No. I can't do it." – Blurted the younger man, shaking his head in vehement denial. – "I can't. Rossi, you know I CAN'T!"

"I can't either…"

"It's all right! Don't worry, we'll show you. It's teamwork and we're good at that." – Assured them Dean, putting an arm around each of them.

Reid wiggled away, still protesting.

"I can't do it!"

At that moment, Commander Matthews arrived, looking at the two men who hadn't even dressed yet with his by now habitual disapproving glare. Reid had a fleeting thought about how uncomfortable it must be for someone to be that bitter all the time.

"Rookies! Put those jumpsuits on and move!" – He ordered, face red in anger.

In five minutes, it became apparent that even that simple order wasn't so easy to follow…

"It's too big for me…" – Muttered Reid, trying to keep the thing from falling off him for the third time.

"I can't believe it, newbie! Is there something you _can_ do? Leave the jumpsuit and climb that wall in your uniform then; who cares! GO!"

Rossi, dressed and ready to go, stood with the others, preparing for the task when Reid finally joined them.

Walker whispered in surprise.

"Why aren't you wearing the jumpsuit? It's protocol…"

"Too big…" – Whispered back the boy simply, feeling sick to the stomach and not really understanding the importance of clothes anyway.

"Oh…"

"So, since you haven't practiced this before, we'll show you how it's done first. Then we'll figure out how you could learn it." – Explained Simon, motioning for his teammates to stand in position.

Three of them ran at the wall with great speed after each other, the first stopping at the bottom, acting as ladder to the second who jumped up onto his friend's shoulders and from there, to the top of the wall. He was followed by the third doing the same. The first then backed away and ran again, before jumping, just to be pulled up by the other two; all done perfectly synchronous. It only took about three seconds and the mini team of three agent were sitting at the top of the wall.

"Wow."

"I can't believe it."

"I can't _do_ it."

"Me either."

"There are more ways to do this." – Explained Ian. – "Naturally, neither of you will have to lift any of us; you're not trained to do it. Genius Boy: you're very light and tall. You actually shouldn't have much trouble running as second and pulling yourself up."

"You think so?" – Asked Reid sarcastically. – "Even if I'll manage it, which I won't by the way, I'll just end up falling off at the other side…"

"Hey, don't think about things like that… Listen: the Commander is watching and expecting you two to do it. I'm sorry but we have to. And David: you'll be the third. You two will pull me up then. You ready to try?"

"I'm not re-"

"No, I-"

"Wonderful. Come on."

Needless to say, it didn't work at first try. Neither did it work at the second, third or fourth… By the fifth though…

"Wow. We did it. Can you believe it?" – Exclaimed the young genius excitedly, sitting on the wall next to the wincing senior profiler and a beaming Simon. – "We're here. And we didn't fall like Humpty Dumpty this time…"

"Yeah, but I'm still sure all the king's horses and all the king's men won't put me together again…" – Complained the oldest, rubbing his back. – "Ouch…"

"What are you still doing up there?" – Shouted the Commander. – "Get down and do it again!"

The profilers groaned. What about the saying that you should quit while still on top!? Shouldn't it apply now?

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

"Oh, Emily Prentiss. What a surprise." – Greeted SSA Collins, looking up from the file he had been reading upon hearing his ex-team member step into his office. – "When you called before, claiming you wanted to talk to me, I thought I was just imagining things…"

"Hello, Jasper." – She said coldly, taking a seat even without having been invited to do so. – "I would think you know why I'm here. Don't you?"

"I guess it's not because you've regretted your decision of leaving us and want to come back now, is it?"

"You're right: it's not. But I do want something, namely my two teammates back."

"I really don't know what you're referring to Emily… Then again, this isn't the first time we two seem to talk past each other."

Prentiss closed her eyes and counted to ten.

"I'm talking about Rossi and Reid. You 'borrowed' them yesterday. More like ordered them to come. And now I want them back."

"Wow! Don't tell me you're a profiler now, Em! Such a sad way of wasting your abilities…"

"Don't call me that." – She hissed. – "This is a name reserved solely for my friends' use."

The man grabbed his heart in mock-hurt.

"But Emily! I thought we were friends."

"Jasper. Don't try to change the subject; it won't work. I'm here to get Rossi and Reid back."

"I'm afraid it's impossible. You see, they're not here."

"Where are they then? What do you need them for, anyway?"

"This information is top secret and, regrettably, you don't have the clearance to learn it anymore. I'm so sorry but I can't help you. It's a pity; you could've been great here…"

"It's not over yet, Jasper." – She warned, jumping up and tearing the door open with far more force than necessary. – "It's not even close to being over yet." – With that, she was gone, leaving the man looking after her with honest sadness this time.

"It's really a pity, Em. _We_ could have been great together."

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

The warning in the morning had been right: they hadn't had time for lunch. After another six times of successfully climbing the wall with the help of very effective team work, the group was now standing on top of the highest tower overlooking the whole camp, preparing for the second challenge that day: jumping down.

"I can't believe we're doing this. Kiddo, please, tell me this is only a nightmare…" – Pleaded a slightly green-looking Rossi.

"I wish it were…" – Sighed the boy, fumbling with his equipment, trying to get it right like the others had shown them to do.

"You don't seem too troubled about this upcoming adventure…" – Accused the older man, poking the boy in the chest with his index finger.

"I'm just tired. I don't really care anymore…" – Admitted Reid, having fastened the protective gear according to regulations. – "After climbing that wall so many times, I can't even feel my arms and legs."

"I hear you. My back… But I don't want to jump. You think we can convince them we've done enough for today…?"

Reid shot a look at the others who were already lining up and discussing last-minute strategy. He then looked down to see the Commander waiting for them impatiently at the bottom of the tower, counting the seconds they were 'wasting' and presumably already mentally issuing them detentions for their tardiness.

"Good luck with that." – He concluded grimly.

Marshall stepped up to them.

"We think it's best if myself and Simon go first. Then Genius Boy and Dean. Then you, David, followed by Walker and Ian. Are you all right with that order?"

"I'm not all right with the whole thing!" – Rossi shouted more in panic than in anger.

"I'm sorry, David. We do all we can to help you and I would like nothing more than to let the both of you off the hook, but it's not our decision." – The agent really sounded sorry for them but there was nothing to do.

"It's okay, Marshall. We'll be fine. Won't we, Rossi?" – Spencer nudged the senior profiler, trying to lighten the mood. – "Hey, at least there's dinner afterwards! You said two hours ago, you were getting hungry… So just one jump and-"

"Five."

"Sorry?"

"It's 'five jumps' and then dinner." – Corrected him Ian apologetically, patting Rossi on the back before checking his equipment, noting that he hadn't done anything with it yet.

"Right… Five. My mistake." – Groaned Reid, standing in his position between Simon and Dean.

"Just watch how those two before you do it, Genius Boy. It's not impossible to learn." – Said Dean, ruffling his hair. What was it with the man always initiating contact when Reid hated it with passion? Never mind that somehow he was beginning to find it comforting, like a friendly pat from Morgan or when Gideon used to squeeze his shoulder…

Soon, Marshall jumped. It didn't seem so hard… Not two minutes later, Simon followed. It wasn't so difficult, right?

And then, too soon, it was Reid's turn. He stood at the edge of the ramp, looking down at the people waiting for them: Marshall and Simon waved to him encouragingly from their position behind the Commander, where the strict man couldn't see their unprofessional behavior. The Commander himself appeared to be increasingly impatient.

Now or never… Closing his eyes, Reid jumped.

He had read a lot about bungee jumping, skydiving, parachuting… But reading about it and actually doing it were two entirely different things. doing it was… AMAZING!

"Wooohooo!" – He exclaimed as soon as he'd touched the ground, ignoring the Commander's disapproving glare at his unbecoming outburst. – "Can I do it again!?"

"Yes, and you will. Until then, stand beside the others and stay quiet. That's not a daycare center, for God's sake, why do I have to feel like I'm a kindergarten teacher!? Move out of the way! And don't giggle like a ten-year-old girl!"

"Aye, sir. Yupeee!"

The Commander rolled his eyes in a for him very unusual way.

Rossi didn't enjoy it as much as Reid had. Actually, he didn't enjoy it at all. He hated it.

"I can't do it again. No, it's impossible. Never. Sorry, Commander but I'd rather quit." – He declared after he had stopped throwing up and managed to stand on his still shaking legs again.

"You can't quit, you've been assigned here. It's not for you to like, it's for you to _endure_ , soldier!"

"Then I'll quit the FBI! I. Won't. Go. Back. Up. There. Again." – He breathed, trying to sound convincing but only managed to stumble and nearly fall. Reid quickly grabbed his arm and held onto his friend tightly, supporting the man the best he could. With him being as skinny as he was, it sadly didn't mean much. But the intention counted too, didn't it?

"It's okay, Commander. I'll do his turns too…"

"You stay quiet! I'll tell you what you'll do: you'll run two miles after we're done here."

"What!? But-"

"Another word and I'll make it three!" – Spencer closed his mouth quickly, feeling offended. He wasn't used to such a tone, since Hotch had never talked to his team like that, thank God. Neither had anyone else; not even Strauss, though she could be mean sometimes. – "You two don't have any idea what it's like to be in the military. You don't have discipline. You don't have self-control. One is a child looking like a beanstalk with a bird's nest attached to the top of it, the other is an old man who had too much turkey during Christmas time. What are you even doing here!?"

"That's what we'd like to know too…" – Muttered Rossi but, thankfully, the Commander missed it completely.

"Kid, move your scrawny backside upstairs and prepare for another jump. Agent, you sit down and watch. Maybe you'll learn something from it. Everyone: don't you have anything better to do than goggle here like tourists at the Eiffel Tower?"

The rest of the time doing this task wasn't spent in a very good mood, even though Reid still enjoyed every jump immensely, he still felt very bad for poor Rossi and was angry about the humiliation they'd had to put up with.

Not to mention the running he had been forced to do: he had only managed a mile and a half which was, in his humble opinion, pretty impressive, considering he'd never done so much exercise in one day in his life before. The Commander, not surprisingly, didn't agree with him on this.

"You're pathetic. Go; get out of my sight."

"Yes, sir…"

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

He dragged himself back into their quarters to find the older profiler lying on the bed, staring absent mindedly at the ceiling.

Reid sighed. The day before, Rossi had been there for him when he'd been feeling down because of the failed task. Now, he'd do the same; he'd make the man feel better, whatever it took.

"Rossi…?"

"Yeah, Kiddo?" – The agent asked but didn't move to look at the young man.

Spencer sighed and sat on the bed.

"This man is a real bastard. Don't you listen to him. We're profilers. And you're the best. The father of profilers. The first one. You've just come out retirement and began your new career with solving case after case; this Commander doesn't even know who he's talking to."

"I don't think he cares, Kiddo."

"Of course, he doesn't. He's too stupid to, and too narrow minded. Being fit and prepared… these might be important things. But we fight with our brains. You know what Gideon said when I failed my qualification and they took away my gun?"

That made Rossi turn around. He had never heard that story before. The kid had been that bad in the beginning? While he certainly wasn't a sniper, he could hold his own now.

"No, I don't. What did he say?"

"He said: our greatest weapon is the profile. We don't even need a gun to kill someone."

"He was right."

"That also means the Commander is wrong." – The boy reasoned further. – "So, there's no point to feel bad about what someone, who's not even right, said… Is there?"

The senior profiler smiled at the young man's logic. A genius indeed.

"No, Kiddo, there really isn't. Would you like me to stand guard while you shower?"

"You would? Thanks! I feel better knowing you're there…"

"It's fine. And then you'll sleep tonight, right? You won't spend another night wide awake?" – Rossi asked knowingly, finally addressing the elephant in the room.

Reid stopped dead in his tracks.

"I could ask you the same."

"Touché… So, if you'll tell me your reason, I'll tell you mine. It's just fair."

"Yeah… And since it was your idea, it's only fair that you should begin…"

"All right. Come on, sit down here." – He patted the bed beside himself. – "Okay… well… I… khm… well. I snore. I didn't want to disturb you, and also, I'm a bit ashamed…"

"Oh!" – Could it have been the reason Rossi hadn't wanted to share a room with him? Not the fact that the man didn't like him? Spencer felt much lighter already with that possibility. – "You shouldn't have worried about it. I'm a dead sleeper. Once I'm asleep, there's no waking me with a simple thing as snoring."

"That's really good to know." – Rossi felt ridiculously relieved that the boy hadn't laughed at him. – "So, your turn, since not waking you would require you to actually fall asleep first. What kept you awake last night?" – Reid didn't answer, just fidgeted with the bedcover. – "Hey, I told you my secret, didn't I?"

"Yeah… Okay. You know I have these… violent nightmares. And I'm not exactly proud of them either. I sometimes wake up in the middle of the night, screaming…"

"Wow… How come we haven't noticed it before? The walls in the hotels usually aren't that thick; we should have heard you screaming bloody murder."

"I sort of… keep awake. Whenever I can." – The young man blushed, hating to admit such a weakness. – "When I'm really tired, I set my alarm to wake me every two hours. That's how long I go without nightmares most nights."

Rossi shook his head in horrified disbelief.

"Kiddo, that's not healthy. No wonder you need to drink so much coffee then! Does anybody know?"

Spencer chose not to mention how he had confided in Morgan once just to be betrayed when he had run and told Hotch and Gideon. While he understood now that his 'big brother' had only done it to help him, it still hurt to even think about it. But it was in the past now, forgotten by everyone else.

"Gideon did. He started asking for sharing a room with me immediately after I told him about this problem. Hotch didn't demand to know the reason, at least as far as I know, but agreed nonetheless. And then whenever a bad dream started, Gideon just… dunno… knew what to do. He talked to me, calmed me. I didn't even really wake. Those were the most restful nights for me. I guess, not for him though…" – He hung his head, thinking about his 'father' with melancholy.

Rossi couldn't resist pulling the boy into a small, one-armed hug.

"You know it's not your fault he left, right?" – Well, it was true. Even Hotch had said it hadn't been the boy's _fault_.

"I guess…"

"And you're not alone. You might find I resemble my old friend more than you'd think at first sight. But there's one thing I'll never do. You know what that is?"

"No. What?"

"I'll never leave you. Well, come on, let's shower so that we can finally both catch some sleep!"


	7. Just a Fairly Normal Day at the Camp

**Just a Fairly Normal Day at the Camp**

"So, what will we do today?" – Asked Reid the next morning during breakfast so uncharacteristically enthusiastic, that Rossi raised an eyebrow at the boy in surprise. The genius was, of course, oblivious to the stunned silence that met his question as he sipped his disgustingly sweetened coffee. – "What!?"

"You sound like you can't wait for the training to begin…" – Observed Ian, studying the younger man with a certain amount of concern. – "Are you feeling all right?"

"I'm fine. Just hungry. I think I'll try some of the chocolate chip muffins." – Shrugged Reid before getting up to fill his plate again. He had already eaten a pancake with vanilla and strawberry filling.

"Wow." – Whistled Dean. – "That's some change. Yesterday, he didn't want to eat anything and seemed depressed to be here at all. Not that I'm not happy about his newfound delight but… David, what happened?"

"Who knows with him…" – Rossi was, to say the least, less joyous about this whole situation than his youngest colleague. Yesterday's happenings still weighted heavily on him, and he wished for nothing more than to go back to the BAU and forget this assignment ever happened. Of course, it wasn't possible; actually, he knew very well they hadn't even started their real task yet…

"So, does someone have the program?" – Asked Reid again, having just returned from his successful quest. He took a bite of the muffin and hmmm-ed appreciatively. – "That thing is divine."

Walker just shook his head before answering:

"In the morning, we'll have a Military tactics course along with basic knowledge testing and IQ tests. Then we'll have First Aid class in the afternoon with an excursion of 10 miles in the evening... ahm… there'll be some weights to carry…" – He admitted, chancing a glance at the two guests, trying to gauge their reactions. Rossi stilled, looking as if he were already in pain from the heavy equipment, while Reid just carried on eating, seemingly not bothered at all; he probably hadn't even heard a word his new friend has said.

"Did you two sleep well last night?" – Asked Marshall, hoping to initiate a more normal conversation that had nothing to do with anything that could upset the new members.

"Yep. Like a baby." – Smiled the young genius, eyeing his empty plate with indecision, clearly debating whether he should get something more or not. – "We skipped dinner last night." – He answered the others' unasked question, craning his neck towards the food selection again. – "You said something about brownies yesterday?"

"Just behind you, Genius Boy." – Answered Simon with a smirk. – "I didn't think you were paying attention."

"He's always paying attention, even when you wouldn't think it." – Stated the senior profiler while Reid raided the food again. – "So, what is it with walking around with heavy bags?"

"Ahm… well, you know. Backpacks of about 70 pounds." – Admitted Dean. – "I don't know how the kid will carry it, to tell the truth… He looks to weight about that much himself."

Rossi groaned and muttered something unintelligible and watched as Reid returned with a brownie and another mugful of coffee.

"So, we'll have brainwork in the morning." – Continued Spencer as if he hadn't left at all. – "Isn't that great!?"

Everyone just looked at him funnily and Rossi drowned his sorrows in tea.

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

They had a little over an hour before they were to report to the conference room for the theoretical lessons, so everyone retreated into their own quarters to catch a bit more rest until then.

Rossi was reading the newspaper (luckily, they were allowed to take them from the canteen), while Reid was rummaging around in his duffel bag, doing God knew what.

The older profiler had just finished an interesting article and turned to his younger friend.

"Hey, Kiddo. You seem quite happy today. It's great of course, but how come? Are you not annoyed about being here anymore?"

"I dunno… It's just that I'm trying to look at the bright side of it, you know? I mean, shouldn't I make the most of this situation and at least now learn what I can? I'm not so sure that giving me all those exemptions during the FBI training has done me much good, if I want to be honest…" – He admitted reluctantly.

"What kind of exemptions did you have?" – Rossi was surprised; he hadn't known about the backstory of the young doctor.

"Well… We could say… I mean… ahm… I didn't really have to do anything but excel in the theoretical stuff. And that also only for a few weeks before Gideon decided I was prepared enough and got me out of there, using his influence." – Spencer blushed a bright red color to have to reveal this secret to someone who hadn't known before. – "I guess he and Hotch didn't believe I could survive a real training."

"Oh…" – That, at least, explained a lot. – "I can see how that would be a problem now… I admire you for doing this here even more then."

"Thank you. I want to prove to everyone – including myself – that I can do this. Or at least… some of it. I want to be a real agent, not just halfway, like I feel I am now!"

"Kiddo, you _are_ a real agent already. No doubt about that. But, you're right, a bit of additional training never hurts."

"And just imagine Morgan's face when I'll tell him about jumping off a tower or climbing a wall!" – Smirked the youngest profiler, already planning the 'big revelation'.

At that very moment, their door unexpectedly opened and Commander Matthews stepped through it, looking around the room with methodically searching eyes.

"Inspection, soldiers!" – He shouted, causing Rossi to instinctively jump up and stand at attention. Old habits were hard to break after all.

Spencer didn't have these previous habits though, so he just blinked, frozen on spot, not really sure what he was expected to do.

The Commander nodded at Rossi's neatly kept side of the room in something akin to recognition; especially after seeing his carefully made bed. As soon as he spotted Reid's side, his face started to turn red. The bedcover was all crumpled where the boy was sitting on it cross-legged, in the middle of the bed. Around him, scattered all over the bed, were-

"Socks? What the hell are you doing with your socks and those scissors, Boy?" – Asked the man, momentarily too baffled to even shout in anger. He couldn't figure out why anyone would cut random signs into their clothes. Was this freaky boy a member of a cult perhaps…?

"Ahm… it's kind of difficult to explain, sir…" – Gulped Reid, trying to get rid of the fallen pieces of fabric by swapping them to the floor. Although, one look at Rossi shaking his head disapprovingly behind the Commander stopped him.

"Let's just give it a try, shall we?"

"Okay… well… I'm trying to cut shapes into them." – Explained the young profiler as if this was an everyday occurrence and the Commander should have realized what he was doing on his own.

The man sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Rossi stared wide-eyed: he didn't think the strict drill sergeant had ever displayed any signs of weakness before.

"And may I ask _why_ you're doing this?"

Spencer looked at the senior profiler for help but the older man only shrugged. Taking it as a sign to answer honestly, he did so.

"To make them different. Sir."

The Commander looked ready to burst out crying or run away screaming any minute now.

"Different?" – He repeated slowly.

"Yes. So that they won't be matching pairs." – It was logical, wasn't it? Reid was sure he was explaining it the way Gideon had told him to: keeping in mind that others might not be geniuses.

"I see. You'll run three miles in the evening, Boy, after we're done with everything. That will be your punishment for… ah… simply for being _crazy_." – With that, he left the bungalow, not looking back and not even mentioning the disarray that ruled the young man's side of the room.

Rossi sat back into his chair and continued reading as if nothing had happened; having gotten used to the genius' unique behavior by now.

Reid picked up the scissors again and proceeded to cut a star-shape into the next unfortunate sock.

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

Needless to say, Reid had aced all the theoretical tasks and had performed at such a high level on the IQ test that the instructor thought he must have cheated.

"That's just not possible, young man. Tell me: how did you do it?" – The elderly woman wanted to know, waving his worksheet agitatedly in front of his face, demanding an honest answer.

"Ma'am, I swear, I didn't cheat…" – He assured, trying to step a bit farther back so that the paper wouldn't scratch him; already having a feeling all explanations were in vain: she probably wouldn't believe him whatever he said.

"He's a certified genius." – Piped up Rossi from his place at the table with the clear intention of helping out the young man. He was still only halfway through the problems and a bit annoyed with them already. Of course, the genius had finished his paper well ahead of everyone else… No surprise there.

"Oh! Is that true?" – The woman seemed much friendlier all of a sudden and Reid couldn't decide if he should be glad about it or become suspicious.

"Yes…"

"So… An IQ of about… what, 220 then?" – The members of the Organized Crime Unit whipped their heads up as one to look at him in surprise, momentarily forgetting about doing their own work.

"Officially, it's only 187…" – Reid, of course, purposely neglected to mention he hadn't done the test since he'd been about four and that, even back then, he had deliberately downplayed his abilities a bit. Well… more like _a lot_.

"Gibberish. This is certainly much higher! Maybe even off the scale!" – She insisted with an excitement of a small child stepping for the first time through the gates of Disneyland into the magical park. – "Would you care for getting officially tested again?"

"No."

"No?"

"No."

All the friendliness was gone in an instant.

"And why not if I may ask?"

"Because I don't care about the result as I don't believe in the IQ having any significance. Did you know that-"

"It's not up for debate! I can make you do it!" – She declared, dismissing his protests altogether. – "So, on Monday-"

"I won't be here on Monday."

"You won't?"

"I won't."

"Oh…" – Now she looked as if she had just been told Christmas would be cancelled this year.

It made Reid feel a bit sorry for her.

"I'm sorry." – He offered.

"I'll talk to your unit chief about it. I'll get you tested, whether you like it or not, young man!"

Well, the feeling of emphaty was gone, that was for sure. Reid just shrugged, knowing full well he had Hotch's entire support in that matter (and in everything else), and – grabbing a book about war operations off the nearest shelf – sat back down to wait for the others to finish as well, dismissing her altogether for the remainder of the time.

He had definitely liked the Military tactics course better than the IQ tests; he thought the formations and operations were much like the rules of playing chess, and had used this excuse to explain to the others how he had managed to outdo all of them in these tasks too; even the much more experienced Organized Crime Unit members. Luckily, everyone seemed genuinly impressed with him instead of angry or resentful. This had never happened to him before joining the FBI.

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

The First Aid class was… loathsome, at least for Reid, making him feel incredibly grateful he hadn't chosen Medicine as his profession back at the university.

"Yuck! This is disgusting!" – He complained for the third time, trying to resuscitate a CPR-puppet. – "Can you imagine how much germs there must be on that… _thing_!?"

"Kiddo, don't be so queasy! You're using a tissue, it's clean. Don't worry about germs." – Scolded him Rossi gently, fearing the boy might be punished for not being able to do this simple task under the watchful eye of their strict instructor. – "Come on, try again! I'll help you."

"No! You do it, I'll watch. I won't touch this thing again. Argh…"

"What's the matter here?" – Asked the man in charge, having finally realized his youngest student wasn't doing what he was supposed to. – "Is there a problem, young man?"

"Sir, I can't do it! It's not healthy!"

"Not healthy?" – The man asked in confusion, clearly never having heard that excuse for not working in his class before.

"No. Did you know that there are all kinds of germs? Bacteria, Fungi, Viruses and Protozoa. Bacteria reproduce in our bodies, feed from us and cause symptoms like sore throat, cavities, etc. Fungi are even visible with the naked eye, look like plants. Very disgusting plants... They cause rash and skin complaint. Yuck! Viruses resemble parasites! Just imagine them inside your body! Like a huge spider residing there, or something. They're feeding of us to stay alive and they make us sick out of gratefulness! They're transferred through straight contact, like doing this…" – He waved towards the abandoned puppet. – "… and they can cause chicken pox and similar things! Even the flu! And Protozoa? Also parasites… They're mostly found in dirty water. For example tapeworm and roundworm… grrr… They'll join themselves to your intestine and remain growing within of you! So, thank you, but no. I won't do this."

Reid had said all these in a big rush, not leaving time for anyone to intervene. He barely even breathed during his speech. After the tirade, the instructor just looked at the young man for a while, incapable of any reaction, before turning around and walking away hastily.

The genius smiled at Rossi sweetly.

"So, it's all yours."

The older profiler made a face.

"No, thanks Kiddo, I think I'll pass too." – He said dryly, pushing the puppet out of the way.

The smug look on the boy's face was unmistakable.

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

"You'll march along the indicated road, up the hill then back down again. You'll carry your 70-pounds bags on your shoulders. No taking them off. I expect you to be back in 2,5 hours. GO!" – Shouted the Commander, sending them on their way.

The members of the Organized Crime Unit started at once, but Rossi remained back, watching the struggling Reid with concern.

"Kiddo…" – He whispered, making sure their drill sergeant wasn't paying attention to them. – "You all right?"

"I… can't… oh!" – The boy fell with a loud 'thud', and ended up buried under his heavy bag. – "Rossi, help!"

The older man turned the younger over, grabbed his hands and pulled him into an upright position.

"I already know about the backpack but how much do _you_ weight, Spencer?" – He asked.

"I don't know… Clearly, not enough for this…" – He muttered, feeling embarrassed. – "I'll be fine… Hopefully."

Marching with the weights was anything but enjoyable for either of the profilers and Reid was already rethinking his earlier enthusiastic declaration about wanting to do the training like 'proper' FBI agents. Why should he bother anyway? He _was_ an agent already… Maybe he should just count his blessings and forget it.

"Hey, are you two coming?" – Asked Simon, jogging a bit back to meet them. – "We should be a bit more ahead by now…" – He stated worriedly, checking his watch that had been set to time their progress.

"You just go on. We'll follow when we can." – Said Rossi, indicating towards the suffering boy. He leaned closer to the other man to quietly say: - "I'm not sure he'll be able to walk 10 miles with that bag, to tell you the truth."

"We've been afraid of that… Poor boy seems like he himself doesn't weight much more than that backpack. I fear it's literally impossible for him to carry it."

"Just go ahead. We'll be fine."

"If you're sure…"

"Yeah. Go. He won't want you to witness his troubles; he tends to be ashamed of any difficulties he encounters."

"He shouldn't be; it's not his fault! But okay… Just shout if you need any help. We won't care about the time; we'll come back to you without hesitation." – He promised.

"Thanks, we appreciate it."

When it was only the two of them again, Rossi rejoined the complaining genius.

"I don't see the point to this! We're not ants to carry such loads!"

"Come on, Kiddo, it's not so far away anymore."

"Are you kidding!? We've only walked a mile or so!" – Reid shook his head exasperatedly but did as he had been told and continued walking, groaning and moaning all the way.

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

Rossi and Reid arrived back at the meeting point after 3,5 hours of plain suffering, just to meet the concerned team and the very angry Commander.

"Just where have you been, if you don't mind me asking; attending a party?" – Actually, they _did_ mind. Rossi's back was hurting horribly, while Reid… well… _he_ was hurting all over, and period. He just dumped the blasted bag and immediately fell next to it, lying in the mud and panting heavily. – "That's deplorable! Boy, go and run the three miles as punishment for earlier. Soldier, go and… just get out of my sight."

In the end, Reid had managed to run 1,5 miles with great difficulty before the drill sergeant had had enough and sent him back to his quarters, all the while muttering about useless little children ruining his reputation as the flawless trainer.

Reid didn't care, he just took a quick shower (with Rossi guarding the entrance again), before falling into bed like a felled tree, already asleep even before his head hit the pillow.


	8. Proven Worth

**Proven Worth**

"And what's in store for our very last day in Hell? Are there many other ways left to torture us? Do we need to worry…?" – Inquiered Rossi, helping himself to some waffles and bagels from the richly packed breakfast table. He wouldn't miss much about this place but this feast each morning definitely.

It was Ian who held their timetable in his hands, so he answered, addressing everyone.

"Rifle Marksmanship. The whole day, with a qualification testing in the evening. And probably a few miles to run as punishment for our Genius Boy." – He added with a mischievous wink.

"WHAT!? Ahm… Are you sure that's what's written there…?" – Tried Reid hopefully, already suspecting the answer.

Ian stuttered.

"No, it was just a joke, Kid. Of course, no punishment if written here for you. You're welcome to check-"

"No. I meant the Marksmanship and the testing…"

"Oh. Yeah. I'm pretty sure about _that_. Why, what's wrong?"

"Nothing…" – But it certainly didn't look like 'nothing' was wrong. The boy refused to say anything more and didn't want to eat a bite of his previously selected turkey sandwich.

"Genius Boy, come on. You know you'll need the energy. Don't give the Commander even more reason to bully you; you've had enough of that already as it is." – Nudged him Marshall but the young man only stared ahead, unseeing and didn't appear to even realize the others were around him.

The senior profiler thought he knew what was wrong and decided to handle the matter on his own.

"Kiddo, would you help me with something?"

"Huh?"

Rossi rolled his eyes. Everyone had immediately gotten he wanted to talk to the boy alone, only the genius was too out of it to recognize a subtle hint.

"Follow me! Now!" – He commanded instead, hoping a direct order would have the desired effect.

The genius reluctantly stood up, leaving the others to marvel about how this confused expression must normally be very foreign on the brilliant young man's face.

Outside, the older profiler didn't hesitate to address the problem:

"Spencer, I remember you telling me you failed the gun qualification once. But listen to me: I've seen you shoot and I'm sure it won't be a problem this time around."

"Rossi, I've never even held a rifle in my hands! And it's not as if I'm the master of sharpshooters now! Just because I've managed to shoot two UnSubs to death-"

"You what!? When? I only knew about the one in Georgia."

"You knew about Georgia? We don't usually talk about it…"

"I realized that, but Aaron told me nevertheless. I think he felt I shouldn't be left in the dark about something everyone else on the team knows. We're a pack and this could possibly be an issue in the future." – Rossi explained, hoping he wasn't offending his youngest colleague but also needing him to understand he didn't have to keep secrets.

"It's fine; you're one of us now. Actually, sometimes I wish… But it's doesn't matter and the other occasion is a long story for another time…"

"Sometimes you wish the others wouldn't avoid the topic like fire? That you could talk about it with them?" – Guessed the older man.

Spencer nodded, almost shyly.

"I had thought I'd be able to at least talk about it with Gideon. But he was the worst of all! There was only one time we ever touched upon my kidnapping and even then, he only gave me cryptic answers before deeming the matter closed. Not long after that, he… well, you know. _Left_."

Rossi sighed. He wondered if Jason even knew how much pain he had caused his surrogate son by leaving the way he had… Problably not, otherwise he'd die of shame and sadness.

"You can talk with me about it whenever you want. I mean it. And don't you worry about today. It'll be over before you know it, and then…" – Then what though? Their assignment would begin and what could it be that required them to go through this hell before starting it? Certainly nothing they'd enjoy doing… – "Ahm… Then we'll see." – He finished quickly.

He had done well with the reassurance, if the boy's smile was anything to go by.

"Thanks, Rossi."

"You're welcome. Let's go back before Dean eats everything and we'll have to spend the whole day hungry!"

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

"During this first phase, you'll demonstrate how to disassemble, clean, and reassemble your weapons, as well as practice safe handling procedures with them." – Informed them their instructor for the day, a burly man in his mid-forties, looking as though he would gladly test weapons on his temporary students. – "In the end, I'll award you points for your performance. Everyone has his rifle? Good. You may start."

Surprisingly, Reid didn't find this excersice difficult at all; he had only needed to watch Rossi do it once to be able to copy every move flawlessly on first try.

"See, Kiddo, I told you it won't be a problem for you to do. You're an agent, and nobody is allowed to question it."

They checked to make sure the weapons was working correctly and cleaned all parts according to the manual.

The boy just blinked amazed and shyly smiled when the instructor couldn't find anything to criticize about his work and gave him a 100% for this part of the project.

Since the members of the Organized Crime Unit did equally as good, they got their new tasks soon.

"I'm glad everyone has managed to load the rifles correctly, for we're going to fire them now." – Said the Instructor, leading the team to the camp's outdoor firing range. – "There's a bit of wind right now, which is fine; it's part of the training to be able to handle that." – The group stopped at the firing point, facing the various targets; all a good 1,200-2,000 yards away. – "You'll shoot one by one, each from a standing position first; then crouching and after that even lying on you stomachs. Both strong- and weak sides-supported." – He added in the end.

Reid gulped at that last piece of detail and notived the others didn't seem happier either. Who would be excited about crawling around in the dirt!? But there was no excuse, so they all did what they needed to.

After about an hour and another praise for everyone, Ian turned to the young man.

"You didn't tell us you were this good, Genius Boy." – He accused, his voice carefully light, teasing.

"I didn't know!" – Defended himself the young man in perfect honesty: he really couldn't believe how well he had done. Maybe all those hours he had spent practicing with Hotch on the shooting range had finally brought some tangible results. He made a mental note to thank his unit chief whole-heartedly for his help as soon as he'd be allowed to talk to him again.

Next, they had to work as a team, imitating a war situation. They needed to come up with a plan, talk it through with each other using silent communication technics for most part and then execute it, all the while deal with the constant pressure from their instructor to be better and quicker. This time, shooting was only the means to reaching their goal ('surviving the fight') and not the end, so it was a bit more difficult to pay attention to it with everything else they had to do. And even like this, Reid proved himself to be exceptionally gifted at war strategy and tactics.

He signaled for Simon and Walker to run towards their target while he covered them from one side with Ian. Rossi, Dean and Marshall were on the other side, also trying to get through. They were being fired at from hidden laser-based guns with paintballs; if someone happened to get hit, they'd be considered dead and lose points. Everyone who'd manage to get to the other side of the field and shoot the targets properly, would pass the qualification. However, they needed to work together to achive it. Reid and Dean had come up with the plan they were using right now, and so far, it seemed to work quite well.

In the end, the whole team finished the day with flying colors, and with an unofficial qualification of 'rifle expert'.

"It's a pity we're not the Navy or the Marine Corps, so we won't be able to get the real badges." – Said Rossi, marveling at the document bearing his results.

Spencer held his paper, looking like he simply couldn't believe it was real. Him, Doctor Spencer Reid… 'small', 'skinny', 'baby' Spencer Reid, as an expert shooter? It hadn't been so long ago when he had failed a simple FBI qualification which couldn't even compare to what they had just done now. How could this have happened? _What_ had happened, actually…?

"How do you even know these things!?" – Asked Walker as incredulous as the boy was feeling, as they were leaving the range and headed for the showers. – "And don't tell me it's because of chess!"

Reid just shrugged but couldn't hide the fact that he was proud of himself and happy about the praise. He might be too skinny and too weak but it seemed, he still had some qualities that could make him good at his job: however impossible the other BAU members would find it, in the last four days, he had found out that he was an _excellent_ shot if he didn't overthink it and also good at strategy. He knew now he could work well individually as well as in team, and had no problem navigating through the forest, or surviving without modern technology to aid him. He had liked the tower jump very much (he wondered what the others would say about his newfound hobby…) and had, in the end, even managed to climb the wall. He had walked 10 miles with heavy load, though not in the required time, but – shame, shame! – he hadn't been able to run more than 1,5 miles at a time. So, now he had learnt he needed to work out a bit more and gain some muscles to perform better at these tasks as well.

All in all, he had gotten to know himself a bit better and gained more confidence than he'd ever had before. Maybe, taking part in a training like that hadn't been so bad for him after all. (It still didn't mean he wasn't happy about being done with it though…)

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

They had been let go earlier than the days before, so, after showering and changing clothes, the whole team had decided to gather in the community room to play poker.

"I warned you before: he's from Vegas!" – Laughed Rossi at the expression on Simon's face when the youngest and most innocent-looking of the whole boot camp had beaten all of them for the third time in a row. – " _And_ he's a genius. So do the math. We don't stand a chance, guys, I'm sorry."

"I'm still sure he's cheating!" – Groaned Ian who had just lost a good portion of his M&Ms to the smirking boy.

"So, you two…" – Said Marshall suddenly. – "Have you profiled us already?"

All the members of the Organized Crime Unit looked up at their new friends at that, waiting for an answer.

"Khm… No…" – Offered Rossi, but he looked uncertain.

"Of course." – Stated Reid simply at the same time.

"Oh, come on, Rossi! We're profilers: we profile. That's what we do, it comes instinctively, and they know that. Don't you?" – Spencer turned to the five others.

"Ahm… And what did you find out?" – Asked Dean, choosing not to answer the genius' question.

"You're all very well-trained and professional." – Began Rossi, giving up the pretence of not having analyzed the team. – "An elite team, used to working together and depending on each other. You're loyal and reliable. The perfect soldiers."

"But you're also much more than that." – Continued Reid without missing a beat. – "Best friends, almost like family. And not just the five of you but everyone in the Organized Crime Unit. You respect your leader without reservations and wouldn't betray him ever; no matter how strict and unfriendly he might appear be. I say 'appear' because I have a feeling our first impression wasn't entirely authentic; more like an act for the newbies, right? Well, we'll see."

Rossi still had something to add.

"I'm sure we'll be able to trust you with our lives and I don't have worries about working with you. While you haven't accepted us as members of your team…" – He held up his hands to halt the protests from all of the five men. – "It's perfectly understandable! Anyway, you still consider us allies and treat us accordingly."

Spencer smiled.

"You respect us, I can see that. I must admit, at first I thought you'd be bullies and you'd make fun of us for not being as prepared and fit as you are. But you soon proved my assumption wrong: you welcomed us from the very beginning and never made us feel bad about anything we couldn't do. Your team seems to be similar to ours." – He finished.

"And you can be relaxed, mischievous and funny when the Commander is not around. You're all individuals with your own personalities shining through in everything you do, even though you have no trouble blending in and acting flawlessly professional when needed." – Rossi added as an afterthought. – "Dean is like a big brother to all, while Ian is the 'father' of the group."

"Simon and Marshall are the jokers and Walker is more serious, the voice of reason." – Finished Reid smiling.

The Organized Crime Unit members gaped.

"Wow. And I must admit, we had no idea what profiling was about but this is quite impressive." – Admitted Dean. – "And of course we'll accept you as team members, especially after the last four days of sharing the same difficulties." – He said, hitting the boy in the back, making Spencer nearly fall headfirst into the table.

The others nodded in agreement.

"We'll be a great team during the assignment. You'll see." – Promised Ian and it was instantly echoed by the others too. – "By the time we'll be finished, your teammates won't know what hit them when they'll see you again."

Even if this statement again hinted at a longer assignment, the profilers had to admit, they weren't feeling as anxious about what was to come than before; they might not be with their own unit but somehow they had a feeling they had the next best thing.


	9. Let the Fun Begin!

**Let the Fun Begin!**

"Please, sit down." – Instructed SSA Jasper Collins as soon as Reid and Rossi entered his office back at the Quantico Base on Monday morning. – "I hear you two did exceptionally good." – He added with the hint of a smile.

The two profilers shared a confused look. Had the strict and unpleasant unit chief just praised them or were they hallucinating?

"Ahm… Thank you, sir." – Said Rossi politely when it became apparent his younger colleague wouldn't be able to speak from shock.

Collins smirked.

"What, young man? You didn't think I could be human?"

"Khm…"

"Anyway. I hope you liked my little team building exercise, for-"

"Wait a minute!" – Interrupted him the senior profiler rather rudely. – " _Team building exercise?_ " – He narrowed his eyes dangerously.

Spencer gaped as well.

"I thought we needed training! You said it was important for the assignment!" – He accused the man.

"So? You needed to gain confidence in your new teammates and they needed to get to know you and your working style. You'll be cooperating with them for who knows how long and it would be highly unfortunate if you didn't even know their names until you'll have to trust them with your lives." – He reasoned, not looking apologetic at all, more like already bored with the topic.

"A welcome drink would have done, man!" – Groaned Rossi angrily.

"If you're done whining like a baby, I will tell you about your task now. Shortly, you'll be transported to Madison, Wisconsin; the rest of the team is already waiting for you in the jet, so let's make this short: you, young man…" – He pointed at Spencer. – "will become a high school student."

"Excuse me?" – Reid asked, voice frighteningly calm. His older colleague knew it wasn't a good sign but apparently the chief of the Organized Crime Unit didn't realize the danger.

"I said: you'll be enrolled as a high school student. Of couse, we'll need to make some alterations to your appearance, otherwise, we'd have a hard time making them believe you're 16."

"I'm 21, sir! Nobody will believe I'm a teenager!"

"You're right: you look 12. So, as I just said-"

"That's a lie! Even Gideon said I look at least 14!" – He argued, petulantly crossing his arms in front of his chest.

Rossi smiled.

"When you do that, Kiddo, you look about 5." – He teased.

Reid stuck out his tongue at him.

"Three." – Sighed Collins, shaking his head. – "Anyway: as soon as you arrive in Madison, my men will take you to the hairdresser's; they already made an appointment for you with someone we can trust completely. There a reason I didn't let Commander Matthews cut your hair; and believe me: I had to fight him hard on the matter. And when you're done there, you'll all visit some stores to buy new clothes for the both of you. SSA Rossi needs elegant suits and the team will make sure you become a modern, trendy sixteen-year-old teenager instead of… khm… well. What you are now."

He finished and Reid gaped in disbelief.

"You can't change me! I'm ME!" – Shouted the genius, face red from anger and he was breathing hard. – "I won't let you do it! I'll-"

"Kiddo. Enough. So, and what about me?" – Asked Rossi, already afraid of the answer. – "What will I need the suits for?" – Suits were fine with him, the questions was: why did he need them?

"You'll be David Rossi." – Replied the unit chief simply.

"Oh. Well, that at least won't be too difficult." – Shrugged the older profiler relieved.

"That's unfair! How come he gets to keep his personality and I have to become a kid!?" – Sulked Reid.

"I don't think you'll have a problem; you already have the behavior of a moody teenager, young man." – Countered Collins, feeling irritated with the boy already. – "And SSA Rossi is too well-known to be anyone else. So, you'll be David Rossi the writer, father of sixteen-year-old Spencer Rossi."

The man smirked.

Reid gave off the perfect image of a gaping fish.

Rossi blinked.

"W…what!?" – He stuttered weakly after a few seconds. He had waited but nobody had shouted 'April's Fool!' – never mind that it was only the end of March and SSA Collins didn't look like someone who played practical pranks anyway. Though the team building exercise had been a blow below the belt so who knows…

"David Rossi, retired FBI agent, now a famous writer moves with his troublemaker son to Madison to begin a new life." – Explained the unit chief the backstory patiently. – "The boy will begin his studies at the Albert Farrer Public High School on Tuesday-"

"Nobody enrolls in a school on a Tuesday." – Muttered Reid but he was ignored.

"- and David Rossi will accompany him on his first day to talk to the principal. Who happens to be a big fan, so don't be surprised if you'll be asked to visit a few Literature classes and talk to students about writing." – He finished, satisfied that he finally had their full attention.

"But… Ahm… Where will we live?"

"You'll get an apartment for yourselves. It has to be believable, for the boy will surely have friends to invite from time to time."

"I don't make friends with teenagers! I'm an adult!" – Again, he was completely ignored.

"But I'm Italian and he's not! We don't look anything alike!" – Complained Rossi but it was in vain. Aside from visibly hurting the kid's feelings once again, it didn't do anything, since the unit chief didn't seem to hear him at all. Or care about what he had to say… Anyway, Rossi gave up the fight and asked instead: - "And what about the rest of the team then?"

"They'll be in another apartment one floor above yours. SSA Kennedy will be the new sports teacher, starting next week. The others will all have their own jobs but you don't need to worry about that. All you need to know is that they'll be closeby to help, should you need it and also: they'll be watching you; guarding you. So, I hope you trust them."

Reid crossed his arms again and huffed.

"And what exactly is it that we're expected to do there, Sir?"

"I'm glad you finally asked!" – Clapped the unit chief his hands. Rossi shot a glance at his young friend to see what he was thinking about this whole thing but found that the youngest team member was pointedly avoiding meeting his eyes. Just great… Playing the part of a difficult teenager certainly shouldn't be too hard for the boy. – "Previous investigations have led us to believe there's a worker; possibly but not necessarily a teacher; who's leading a secret cult; into which only selected students are invited. This group uses drugs, performs satanic rituals and we have reason to believe the members, or at least some of them, are planning to commit mass suicide soon. Obviously, we'd like to prevent that but our efforts to learn more about the cult or find its leader had been unsuccessful. The team thinks only a student would be able gain the confidence of this person."

"Hey, wait a minute!" – Burst out Rossi. – "You're saying the kid has to join a satanic cult!? You can't be serious! We're not trained for things like that! And he's only 21! NO!"

Reid who was still feeling the sting of the earlier rejection, had just about had enough of being treated like a child.

"I'm here, you know!" – He said, rounding on his older colleague before the unit chief could say anything. – "And I can take care of myself just fine! You told me not so long ago I'm a proper FBI agent and that nobody could question it. Was it just a phrase that sounded good? You didn't mean it at all?"

"You know it's not about that, Kiddo, but a cult…"

"I can do it! And I will!" – The boy stated, turning towards their temporary boss expectantly. – "How will I do it, sir?"

Collins, who had watched the two fight as if he had been attending a curious tennis match, hid a smile at the very strange behavior and answered the question, ignoring the worries voiced by the older agent.

"The targets seem to be young, insecure teens who have trouble fitting in and are looking for acceptance from an adult. They're probably integrated into the group gradually, without them even realizing it at first. You have to be more vigilant than that, young man! You'll have to know what you're walking into. You need to keep your eyes and ears open; try to find out who the leader could be and also: who the members are. They could be in your classes, or sitting next to you on the school bus-"

"The school bus!? I don't ride-"

"- or even become your friends. As a matter of fact: I'd like to to befriend them, learn what they know, how they see all this. They will sympathize with you if you tell them your mother just died and your father is more concerened about his books than you. Complaints teenagers usually have. You'll have SSA Kennedy at the school watching out for you, the rest of the team around all the time and your 'dad' looking out for your best interests. You'll be fine."

"So, my job will be to watch out for the Kid and try to give a few lectures at the school?" – Wanted to clarify Rossi. – "The hard work will all be done by the boy?"

The unit chief sighed.

"Look, I know you're worried about him. I get it, but I swear, we've taken all the precautions. We needed someone who can pass as a teenager and neither of my men can. They have tried doing it lots of other ways but they didn't work. We needed someone undercover in that school and the youngest person within the whole FBI is Doctor Spencer Reid. Everyone knows that-"

"I'm so glad people talk behind my back about me!" – Burst out the young man.

"- And he _is_ an agent, albeit a highly unusual one…" – Remarked Collins thoughtfully. – "He did better on the training than anyone had expected him to and he is currently behaving like a child. He looks like a child. Absolutely perfect."

"You're talking about me like I'm not here at all!"

"Why do you need _me_ then?" – Inquired Rossi, brushing off the genius' tirade as 'not important'.

"I'll be frank: there's no way I'd have gotten the kid alone. You people are famously protective of your cub _("I'm not a cub!")_ and the Director told me to forget this whole thing unless I have someone from his own team with him for the mission. But I am glad to have you for yourself too, SSA Rossi. Finding the culprit will take some serious profiling and my team can't do that. We need the two of you to work together with them and act very professional. Unless you're at school, young man, or with your future friends, or-"

"I'm not befriending children!"

"So, I think we've cleared everything. The jet is awaiting you and the rest of the team will brief you about other preparations you will take. Good luck, gentlemen."

Ignoring the dismissal, Rossi extended his hand towards the man, much like the unit chief had done with them when they had arrived here last week.

"We'd like our cells back, sir." – He explained.

The other man just blinked innocently.

"Oh, haven't I told you? You're not allowed to talk to your teammates during the assignment."

"WHAT!?"

"It's an undercover job, SSA Rossi. You don't contact your friends when you're playing a role. Off you go, shoo."

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

"Hotch, I'm so sorry, I swear, I have tried everything I could think of, and nothing worked." – Emily hung her head sadly, hating to admit she hadn't been able to help their 'lost' friends.

The chief of the BAU and Emily Prentiss were both in Hotch's office, behind closed doors. They knew the others were getting increasingly curious about why the two of them had started to whisper among themselves recently, and – in the case of Morgan and Garcia – they had even begun to formulate wild theories, like them being secret lovers and such things. In reality, they were only doing their best to get Reid and Rossi back from the Organized Crime Unit that had borrowed them for an indefinite time. So far, they hadn't made any headway though.

"It's not your fault, Prentiss. Thank you for everything you've done." – Hotch sighed, feeling totally defeated. His two team members had been gone for over four days (this morning being the beginning of the fifth), and they didn't even have an idea where they were and what they were forced to do.

"You're welcome. I just wish I could have really helped."

Hotch nodded absent mindedly… He didn't trust Jasper Collins or the Organized Crime Unit in general, and everything Emily had told him about her brief encounter with the group had only strengthened his dislike towards the unorthodox tream. Everyone knew they weren't like any other unit: they had much more freedom to make their own calls with the Director himself having much less say in their matters. They were not a unit Rossi and especially Reid belonged with. And then there was the other problem…

"Do you have an idea why they sent their go bags back to me right on the first day when they had especially requested they bring them?" – He suddenly asked Emily. – "Does it mean something…?"

"Ahm…" – This was even worse then than she had expected, thought Emily. – "Well… They're mostly wearing regular clothes, like us but… well… there are certain… occasions…" – She didn't want to continue. She didn't even want to think about any scenario that would require her FAMILY to not wear normal street clothes.

"Yes?" – Pressed Hotch anxiously.

"Sometimes they'll go on… _assignments_ … where they need to wear uniforms. And guns…" – She finished very softly.

"WHAT!? You mean a war zone? No… I can't even imagine… Not Reid!" – Exclaimed Hotch, clearly horrified.

"It could be a Boot Camp… I hope I'm wrong."

"I hope that too. Please, don't stop trying, Prentiss! We have to get them back!"

"I'll do my best."

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

"I can't believe I let them do this!" – Complained Reid mournfully, studying his image in one of the store windows with disdain as they were walking away from the hairdresser's that had just taken most of his beloved mane, letting the rest curl lightly just below his ears in small locks. – "That's terrible!"

"As a matter of fact…" – Laughed Marshall. – "… it is very handsome."

"Shut up!" – Groaned the boy. He had just lost the battle against the no-nonsense barber so he wasn't in the right mood for any friendly conversation yet.

Rossi smiled to himself, being careful not to let the young man in his current rage see him do so. The truth was: the boy did look extremely good with his new hairstyle, not to mention the clothes Walker had gotten him just before the trauma with the hairdresser. They had apparently figured the bigger shock would be enough for the genius to forget to complain about the stylish acid washed dark blue jeans, plain white T-shirt and the light blue hoodie. Oh, and the dark sneakers, letting his simply black socks show when he sat down. The socks could be a problem-

"I hate looking like this! This is so… NORMAL!" – Continued the youngest profiler, sounding very much like a toddler throwing a tantrum.

"I'd have never thought your hair could be this wild when cut properly!" – Giggled Dean, running his hand through the untamed locks. – "It's so _cute_!"

The boy's enraged growl was enough to stop him right away and withdraw his hand as if it had been burnt.

"Hey, Tiger, it's okay." – soothed Ian, barely holding back his laughter. – "You really look good, but if you don't like it, you can let it grow back in just a few months. We always need to do this for our assignments. I once had my hair so long, I could pull it back in a ponytail. I had to play a rockstar."

This perked the young man's interest so much that he momentarily forgot about his grief.

"Really? I can't imagine it!" – He chuckled. – "Did you dress accordingly?"

"Ohho! He did! We can all attest to it!" – Confirmed Simon at once, then he leaned closer to the boy to whisper into his ear: - "We also have photos to prove it."

"Hey, what are you two murmuring about?" – Narrowed his eyes suspiciously Ian.

"Nothing!" – Said both simultaneously before breaking into a laughing fit.

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

"So, Genius Boy, tell us: what do you like to do as a hobby?" – Asked Simon out of the blue as they were leaving the office supply store loaded with various notebooks, pencils, pens, erasers, highlighters and such things for a grumping Reid to put into his – also newly purchased – backpack.

"I don't need all these things! I never had half that much when I was actually going to school!" – He complained, ignoring the previous question.

"Come on, Kid!" – Nudged him Dean. – "We still need to get decoration for your room. You might have visitors, it needs to look authentic. So, what should we get?"

"I don't know!" – Shook his head the young man, sounding tired and irritated at the same time.

Rossi took pity on him and offered helpfully:

"Are there any bands you like listening to? TV shows to watch?"

"Hm… I listen to Mozart, Bach and Schubert and-"

"These are not bands! We needs something a teenager would like!" – Cut him off Walker exasperatedly. – "A _normal_ teenager, mind you." – He added, seeing Reid starting to open his mouth to protest.

Spencer just shrugged. He had no idea what other people did but he had never liked anything else; not even when he'd really been sixteen years old.

"Okay, okay. Forget about music then. Television?"

The young man was more excited about that.

"Oh, there's this science show where they always do experiments to prove or rebut theories like-"

"Grrrrr!" – Simon felt like pulling out his hair.

"I guess this is not fitting for a normal person either?" – Asked Spencer innocently. – "What about Star Trek? I love it! Though some aspects are fairly unrealistic, like-"

"Star Trek will be fine!" – Interrupted him Marshall quickly before he'd give them a lecture about science fiction vs reality. – "What do you read? We should get some books."

Reid's eyes lit up upon hearing that proposition.

"Yes! I read everything! I read at least 9-10 books a week, so we should get a lot! Everything about math and chemistry and psychology and chess games and conspiracy theories and…" – And the list went on and on. Reid never even realized the others weren't listening to him anymore. – "… and history and literature and horror and crime and…" – He was still at it when Dean and Ian disappeared into the bookstore, leaving the others outside, not daring to let the genius close to the selection for fear they'd never get out alive again. – "I love reading novels in the original language, like Mario und der Zauberer in German or Anna Karenina in Russian and…" – He was still listing preferences when the two agents rejoined them, carrying the whole series of the Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter and a few Star Wars books. Reid finally stopped, seeing the purchases. – "What are _these_? I've already read them all! I have an eidetic memory! What should I do with them!?" – He shrieked.

"Sorry, Genius Boy. We need them for display and the nice lady inside said these are the most sought for by teenagers nowadays." – Apologized Ian half-heartedly, steering the still gaping boy towards the building that would house them for the duration of their assignment. After climbing the stairs to the third floor ("Sorry, the elevator hasn't been working for months, according to the landlord."), they got a key to the apartment in the farthest end of the long corridor.

Rossi and Reid said goodbye to their temporary teammates and entered their new home.

 **AN: Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year everyone! :)**


	10. First Day of School

**X.** **First Day of School**

Spencer stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom, doing his best – and still failing – to tame his newly cut hair. The locks didn't stay down whatever he tried; they all just curled back again as soon as he released them. In the end, he had to admit defeat and give it up as lost cause with a heavy sigh. This assignment was just getting better and better…

He entered his still bare bedroom; the previously purchased clothes, posters and books just haphazardly thrown to the floor, abandoned for later. He simply hadn't had the energy to pack them away yesterday.

He hated these clothes anyway… ('Well, it could be worse. It could be a private school with uniforms…' – He thought to himself.)

"Kiddo, are you ready?" – Came the shout from outside, immediately followed by a knock on his slightly ajar door.

"It's fine, Rossi. Come in." – He called back, pulling a black and white striped sweater over his head. When the older man stepped inside, he turned to show him his attire. – "Don't you think this style is ridiculous on me?" – He asked self-consciously, working on pulling the sweater a bit more down to hide the brown belt keeping his light blue jeans from falling. And the socks… plain, boring black ones… He'd need to go and do some shopping himself soon.

The chuckling senior profiler walked closer to him and righted his clothes, pulling the collar of the T-shirt out from under the sweater, smoothing them down elegantly before stepping back a bit, holding the boy at arm's length so that he could look him over better.

"Look at you: a proper high school student. The perfectly normal teenager." – He said, seeming a bit touched. – "I never thought I'd ever get the chance to accompany my son to his first day of school."

"Ahm… Rossi? You do remember I hold three PhDs and two BAs, right? It's hardly my first day at school…"

The older man was still suspiciously chocked up when he rubbed at his eyes frantically.

"I'm so proud" – He said, ignoring the boy's comment altogether. – "I always wished…" – Spencer wanted to find out more but the older man trailed off.

"You wished what?" – He pressed, hoping to get more information out of his newest team member he had admired so much in the beginning but who had soon rejected his every attempt at getting to know him better. Maybe now things would change…

Rossi sighed.

"I always wished for a son…" – He admitted. – "Did you know I had one? For a very short time…"

"What? No, I didn't! What happened? If you don't mind my asking, of course…"

"Yeah… James David Rossi. Born and died on April 26, 1979. He would be just a few years older than you are and exactly Stephen Gideon's age. My first wife, Carolyn and Jason's wife were pregnant together."

Reid felt horrible for his colleague. This could explain the older man's initial behavior towards him at any rate.

"Oh, God. I'm so sorry, Rossi! I never knew."

"It's okay, Kiddo. Nobody does, not even Aaron. Only Jason… See, you're not the only one who shared personal secrets with him, and only him… As a matter of fact, did you know that I'm Stephen's godfather?"

"Really?"

"Yes! He was even named after me; my middle name is Stephen."

"I didn't even know that. I'm so sorry, Rossi."

"Why are you sorry?" – Asked the man confusedly. The youngest profiler had nothing to be sorry for as far as he was concerned. It was rather the other way around…

"Because I don't think I tried enough to get to know _you_ as a person when I was pestering you about your books and experiences. No wonder you wanted to get rid of me." – He hung his head in shame.

"No, Kiddo. I am sorry for how I behaved towards you. It's not your fault you reminded me of my deceased son and the godson I haven't seen for ages."

Spencer then decided to ask the dreaded question:

"Do you hate being reminded? Does it hurt seeing me and having me around then?"

"NO! I found it's actually doing me good." – Winked the older man. – "You're keeping me on my toes, Kiddo. Here I am now: father of a sixteen-year-old moody boy! Who would have thought it possible."

Spencer laughed.

"Well, I hope you're ready to deal with me because I'm not easy to get along with… My own father never took me to school and my mother was also too sick to do so. I've never had anyone standing up to me and my school years were some of the worst ones of my entire life, filled with neglect and bullying. I'm not very eager to go back but it's reassuring to know that this time, I won't be alone."

"No, you're certainly not alone and you'll never be. I promise you that. But it wouldn't do good for your reputation to be late on your very first day, so: shall we go, _son_?"

"Let's go, _dad_."

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

The school building looked… impressive. Impressive and formidable at the same time; at least to Reid.

"You ready to go in?"

"No."

They stood for another two or three minutes staring at the frightful place and watching the students walk past them (sometimes they'd bump into them with a muttered curse like 'move out of the way, you Moron', or something similarly endearing).

"Are you ready now, Kiddo?"

"No… What about if we go home now and try it again tomorrow?" – Reid tried half-heartedly. – "Or better yet: next week when Dean will be here too? Why can't he begin today with me, anyway!?"

The older man sighed.

"We've talked about this: it would be too suspicious if we all turn up at the same time. Remember, they can't realize you know him." – He chided gently.

"I know… Hey, I've got a brilliant idea: why don't we quit the FBI and then when the BAU is looking for new people, we'll apply again! I'm sure Hotch would choose us!" – He smiled proudly at his genius way of thinking and Rossi hated to break the boy's confidence.

But he had to nonetheless.

"Nice try, Kiddo, but sadly: it's not an option. Come on, then." – With that, he grabbed the young man's arm and led him into the building.

Once inside, Reid looked around: hundreds and hundreds of students, all moving around in a colorful whirlwind of activity; chatting, shouting, blaring music from headphones, the sound of feet tapping on the floor, doors opening and closing, cell phones emitting various peeping sounds… it was too much! Way too much!

The youngest profiler tried to take it all in but he felt his brain starting to spin out of control at the amount of new information it was processing.

"Aaah!" – He groaned and grabbed his head in pain, squeezing his eyes firmly shut.

"Kiddo, what's wrong?" – Asked the senior profiler worriedly, pulling the boy's hands away from his face to look him in the eyes. – "Are you feeling sick?"

"I… Oh, God! It hurts, Rossi!"

"What hurts? Talk to me!"

"My head! Arrg!"

The older man looked around and spotted the restrooms not far away from them. He forcefully pulled the genius into the men's room before shutting the door behind them, locking out all the outside sounds – along with three angrily swearing students who had tried to enter after them. He then opened the tap and wetted his hands with cold water to wash the youngster's face; hoping it would calm him somewhat.

It seemed to work as the panic was slowly but surely disappearing.

"Better now?" – Rossi asked a few minutes later.

"Yeah… Thanks. I don't know what happened." – He was still panting heavily, just like two days before, after having just run 1,5 miles.

"Sensory overload, I'd say." – Informed him his colleague. – "With that enormous brain of yours it's no wonder this can happen sometimes." – He teased gently. – "You'll be fine, don't worry."

The boy didn't smile though.

"It's just that… my time at high school was far from enjoyable, you know? Being here again brings back memories. Bad ones. I hoped never to have to confront these feelings again." – He admitted sourly.

Rossi looked around to check if there was someone in the cubicles to hear them. Having made sure they were truly around, he assured:

"This time it will be different. You're not a child prodigy here, Spencer. They'll think you're just a normal teenager like everyone else. And in reality? You're the oldest now!"

Reid blinked.

"I haven't thought about it yet. For the first time in my life, I'm not the youngest somewhere!" – He exclaimed, only now realizing the implication. – "That means they can't hurt me now, right? I'm an FBI agent, I can take care of myself! Right, Rossi?"

"That's right, Kiddo. And you know what else is different now?"

"What?"

"You have me and five others looking out for you. You know and trust us all and we know and trust you. We're a team; nothing can happen. So, if you're ready, let's go meet the principal and get you settled."

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

They found the main office easily on the first floor, right at the top of the stairs. The principal herself was a small, friendly woman in her mid-fifties, who was all smiles upon seeing her newest student – and especially his father.

"Mr. David Rossi! I'm so happy to see you here! It's an honor that you chose our school for you son, sir." – She said, shaking the stunned man's hand and ushering both 'father' and 'son' inside to take seats. – "I can assure you we'll do everything in our power to make him feel welcome here."

"That's very nice of you, ma'am."

"Oh, that's the least I can do for such a legend as you are!" – Reid and Rossi shared a look; Collins had told them the principal was a fan but this level of hero worship was still somewhat… unexpected. – "Mr…?" – She continued, looking for the first time at Reid.

"Spencer, ma'am. Spencer R- ossi. Rossi."

"Spencer. I hope you don't mind me calling you that?" – He shook his head to indicate that no, he didn't mind. – "Thank you. So, Spencer: I have your timetable here. Usually our students get to make their own, of course, but since you're joining us in the middle of the semester, I thought it makes more sense to do it for you in a way that could help you catch up the best. Is it all right?"

"Absolutely. I'm sure Spencer appreciates it, don't you, son?" – Asked Rossi, turning to his youngest colleague, clearly enjoying playing their roles. Maybe a bit too much so, at least in the young man's opinion…

Reid had to keep himself from rolling his eyes. He really couldn't care less what boring lessons he'd have to attend while here.

"Of course, it's fine. Thank you." – He also forced a smile for good measure.

It seemed to do the trick, for the woman positively glowed with happiness as she handed him the paper that held all the necessary information about his classes.

"Your father sent a letter a few days ago, explaining how incredibly smart you are, so I signed you up for particularly everything we have to offer for eleventh grade…" – She explained merrily. – "You'll have German and Spanish languages, Algebra II, Advanced Calculus, Business Math and Statistics, World History and American History, Physics, Biology, Psychology, Sociology. Geography and Economics too. Oh, and Government, English Literature, Advanced Grammar, Computer Sciences and Physical Education. This latter was especially requested for two times a week. We accommodated all the wished you sent us, Mr. Rossi." – She assured proudly.

Rossi had, of course, not sent any letters. They both knew who had done it though… Especially with all the classes the 'incredibly smart' boy had been signed up to, and the two PEs… Dean was going to get an earful.

"That sounds… plenty." – Swallowed the genius. He had, naturally, taken all these and some more when he had been at school for the first and real time but this time, he had other things to do besides attend classes and he had hoped for a bit more freedom…

"Should there be any problems with these or you don't find your classes fulfilling enough, don't hesitate to come to me, young man!" – She told him.

"I'll be sure to do that, ma'am…"

"Fantastic! So, here's a key to your locker, you'll find your books already inside, waiting for you. These tickets…" – She waved them in front is his eyes. – "… you can use in the school cafeteria to get your lunch. And this is your card, use this to come and go. You also asked for the school bus, right?" – At their nods, she continued. – "It has been arranged for you. Are there any questions?" – Reid couldn't even open his mouth, he was so overwhelmed with the whole ridiculous situation while Rossi was… well. Rossi. – "No. All right then. Young man, your second class today will be Economics, I suggest you get your books and look for your classroom. The first period is nearly over anyway."

The genius nodded and got up. As he was leaving he could hear the principal nervously asking his 'dad' if he could possibly visit a couple of Literature classes and give lectures to the students… Reid wondered if the members of the Organized Crime Unit were maybe better profilers than they had initially thought…

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

'Open the locker' was easier said than done. Ten minutes later found Reid still hitting/pleading/threatening/wrenching the cursed thing and not an inch closer to his books. He was starting to understand why the overenthusiastic woman had said he should head straight for the second lesson; though at this rate he would miss even that.

"Come on, you disgustingly ugly metal construction! Whoever designed you must have been out of their mind! Open, Sesame! Arrg!" – After a hard (unsuccessful) pull he fell back, landing painfully on his backside.

He was still sitting on the floor, blinking confusedly up at the treacherous monster when a dark shadow loomed over him, belonging to an angry-looking security guard.

"May I help you, young man?" – He asked in a voice that immeadiately made Reid come to the brilliant conclusion, that the man didn't really want to 'help' with anything but throwing him out of the building.

"I'm a new student." – He hurriedly explained, standing up with some difficulty (admittedly, he was still a bit sore from all the training they'd done…) and trying to look as if he knew what he was doing. – "I just got this key from the principal but it seems to be faulty."

"Faulty…?" – Repeated the security guard, clearly unbelieving.

"Yes, sir. See, it won't even fit in the lock." – He demonstrated his problems, hoping the strict man would eventually understand him and help. – "See? A total disaster, this thing is. I sincerely hope, nobody got paid for it."

The security guard narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"Sorry, I didn't catch your name." – He said. Of course, both knew the newcomer hadn't introduced himself.

"Spencer Re- Rossi. Spencer Rossi."

"I haven't heard we'd get a new student today. It's a bit unusual, at the end of March, isn't it?"

"Ah…" – Should a security guard be told at all? He didn't have an idea but he wouldn't have thought so. – "We just moved here with my dad recently…" – The explanation didn't appear to be nearly enough. – "Oh, and I have my card." – He pulled it out, showing it to the man who inspected it for a good minute, probably checking if it was fake, before sighing.

"All right. You just don't seem old enough to be here at all." – Ignoring the boy's indignant gape, he shrugged. – "But whatever. You push it a bit, then put the key inside, hit it twice and then give it a sudden pull. It should work." – With that, he was gone, having lost interest already. If he couldn't throw the kid out, there was no point to standing there, conversing with him.

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

"Excuse me, you're standing in front of my locker." – Came a soft voice from somewhere behind Reid, bringing him back to reality. How much time had passed since the rude security guard had declared him, 21-year-old FBI agent to be too young for high school, effectively rendering him speechless and motionless!?

"What?" – He asked unintelligently, turning around to find… a beautiful girl with wavy blond hair and huge blue eyes standing there, looking at him expectantly.

"You're blocking my locker…" – She said again, motioning towards the one beside his own.

The young genius stared for a couple of seconds before the words managed to reach his momentarily fully dulled brain.

"Oh! I'm sorry!" – He jumped away as if he had been stuck by a needle and watched as the girl expertly opened the chest, just like the guard had told him to do. He couldn't help blurting out: – "It's amazing!"

"Ahm… Sorry?"

" _You_ … I mean! Ahm… The way you just did that… thing… you know… ahm…" – Was he really blushing? _Now_? Of all the times he could blush did it have to be now!?

The girl gave him a funny look.

"You're new here, aren't you?" – She guessed. – "You can't open your locker?" – So, she must be a profiler too… Or a relative to Sherlock Holmes.

"Ahm…" – Come on, Spencer, try to stick two words together, for God's sake! – "Khm…" – Genial… Some genius you are!

She didn't seem offended though.

"Let me help you!" – She laughed, holding out her hand. Did she want Reid to touch it? Or what should he do now? He was starting to hyperventilate here… - "Key?"

"Oh!" – Feeling totally stupid (not an everyday occurance for him at all), he handed her the key, careful to avoid skin to skin contact.

She quickly worked her magic, making it look so simple…

"Aaaand! Here you go!"

"Wow. Thanks. I don't even know how to thank you…"

"You're a junior?"

"I… think so…" – In reality, he had no idea. When he had actually been at high school he had finished all the available classes (minus sports and different arts of course…) in less than two years. He didn't know how the system really worked. – "I just got my timetable, it's all a bit new for me. I transferred from a… well.. _private_ school. With different rules and all." – He added, hoping it was enough of an explanation not to appear too alien. But who was he kidding? He was an alien to everyone he'd ever met…

"That's fine. Let me see." – Without further ado, she snatched his timetable out of his limply hanging hand, and studied it thoughtfully. – "Wow. I've never seen anyone take so many different classes in one semester. You must be pretty smart!"

"Ahm…" – Yeah, hadn't he just sounded smart during this whole conversation!? He had to repress the urge to roll his eyes at his own denseness.

"Do you really speak Spanish _and_ German?"

"Sí… Ja… I mean… Yeah… Is it… you know… _freakish_?"

"No, I think it's _brilliant_! I wish I could learn at least one foreign language. I don't seem to be very talented in that area though."

"I could maybe… help you?" – Stupid, stupid, Spencer! Why would she want help from _you_!?

"Really? I would love that very much!" – She would!? She WOULD!? – "But I'm taking French, I don't know if-"

"It's okay! I speak French!"

"Are you a genius!?" – She laughed.

"NO! I'm just… really interested in languages. So, would you like me to help you? I'd be glad to, you know, in exchange for your helping me open this horrible patchwork of a cabinet."

"I'd be happier than you could imagine!" – She was glowing and Reid felt as if he were floating above the clouds. – "What's your name?"

"I'm…" – What was it again? Oh, yeah… - "Spencer. I'm Spencer. Re- Rossi. Spencer _Rossi_."

"And I'm Sydney May Evans. I'm in twelfth grade. Oh, and I need to be going, I'll have Speech Class with Mr. Moore. He doesn't tolerate us being late… So… Here's my number, call me when you have time." – She looked around for a piece of paper and when she couldn't find any, she grabbed Reid's hand and scribbled her number on his palm. It was… ticklish. – "Bye, then!" – And with a last wave, she disappeared.

Reid couldn't move for a while and when he did, he finally realized the harsh reality: he would be late for his very first class at high school.

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

It was 4 PM and he had just entered their shared apartment after an agonizing ride on the school bus. Rossi was cooking some kind of pasta with Pomodoro sauce and humming under his breath when the newfound high school student greeted him tiredly.

"Oh, Kiddo! What was your first day like?" – He inquired brightly.

"Ahm… Uneventful…?" – He tried, thinking back to his day.

Of course, he had gotten late to Economics, especially since he hadn't been able to find the classroom as easily as he had hoped he would. ('This school is a maze!' – He had thought angrily by the third wrong turn.)

But other than the gentle scolding he had had to endure for his tardiness, nothing spectacular had happened in either of his classes that day:

Economics had been ridiculously boring, especially since Reid knew very well half of the theories were… well. Just that: theories. Having lived the way he had his whole life (especially since his father had left when he'd been 4 years old and he'd remained alone with a sick mother who couldn't even remember to eat on her own, let alone pay bills) had made him an expert at manipulating Adam Smith's Invisible Hand Theory and other economical principles. Just a bit of playing cards here and visiting casinos there could change the whole balance of the universe…

Physics had been fine, he was currently studying it at CalTech (distance education, which nobody knew about) for a fourth PhD after all, it wasn't as if the teacher had been able to tell him anything new. He'd only had to pay attention to not fall asleep right then and there, as boring as it had been to listen to the most basic things all over again.

English Literature was, at least, something he'd always liked reading, no matter how many times he had read and heard everything about it. Growing up with a mother whose memory had been usually limited to Chaucer and co., he had gotten used to this topic of conversation. It seemed like this year it would be Shakespeare for most part for the students, and Spencer was all right with it. He liked Shakespeare.

Spanish had also been an easy ride: being fluent in at least ten different languages did have its pros and cons – mostly pros, unless you counted the fact that this way, he could understand even more people calling him 'freak' and 'unnatural'.

Chemistry had been the same as Physics with the difference that he already had his PhD in it: he had just concentrated on looking as if he'd been listening, and that was it.

Soon, he had found himself sitting in the school bus, warily looking around for bullies to attack him and finding – to his immense surprise – that nobody had shown any interest in hurting him at all. Or even talking to him. It was, as if they hadn't even noticed him being there at all. Had he become invisible? He wouldn't mind it so much…

"Uneventful?" – Repeated Rossi in disbelief. – "Kiddo, it's the first day of high school… Yare you really sure nothing notable happened?"

Reid had a sudden image of beautiful, nice and funny Sydney writing on his palm, giving him her number for later use. To help her with French… Well, that could mean a lot of things… Arg, don't go there, Spencer! She's much younger than you are, don't forget it! Never forget!

He couldn't help the shy smile though and – of course – the senior profiler, being one of the bests at his job, noticed it right away. He raised his eyebrows expectantly at the younger man, waiting for an explanation.

Reid just looked at him seriously.

"Nothing, Rossi. Absolutely nothing notable happened."

His oldest colleague's smirk made it clear he wasn't buying a word of it.


	11. Life as a Student

**Life as a Student**

Spencer spent the first two lessons the next day thinking about how he'd call Sydney and what he'd tell her… The 'how' was a valid question too, since Collins hadn't thought it important to outfit them with cell phones (more like actually making sure they didn't have any available…), and he also didn't have any money to use a pay phone. Also, the other members of the Organized Crime Unit seemed to wholeheartedly agree with him, thus making it highly improbable they would be of any help in that matter. This problem occupied his attention for hours so much, he hadn't even realized the first two times the teacher had called his name. Well, his undercover name, which circumstance added to the difficulties. The third time though…

"Mr. Rossi!" – Shrieked the plump woman loudly, causing Spencer to nearly jump out of his skin in fright.

"Oh! That's me… I'm Rossi. Spencer Rossi…" – He muttered, looking at her expectantly as he was trying to calm his racing heart.

"I realize that, young man. I asked you to kindly walk up to the blackboard and solve us the problem presented on it, if you don't mind." – She repeated for somewhat sarcastically, motioning towards the advanced calculus equation they were apparently learning about.

Looking around, the other students seemed relieved it hadn't been them singled out, as they probably had some difficulties understanding the examples, so they were all doing their best not to look at either him or the teacher and to seem very busy writing in their notebooks.

"Right." – Spencer sighed and proceeded forward to search for a chalk.

It didn't take more than three seconds for the genius to solve the problem, being a mathematician and all.

Everyone gaped at him in surprise, even the most coward students having abandoned any pretence of working by now. Spencer was starting to feel increasingly uncomfortable under the scrutiny and hurriedly returned to his seat at the far end of the room, hoping it would be enough to get away from searching eyes. It wasn't: people just turned around to stare at him. Great…

"Mr. Rossi… Where did you learn _that_!?" – The teacher asked after a moment of stunned silence, her voice carrying in the classroom like lightning. – "I haven't taught you this complex way of solving such an equation…"

"Oh…" – Stupid Spencer, you went and got yourself into trouble again! There are several ways of solving a mathematical problem; he should have payed attention to use the one they were just learning! – "I… learnt this at my old school…" – He explained.

"Which school was it again?" – The teacher pressed eagerly. – "This is PhD level strategy and even there only the best can apply it with such efficiency."

The expression 'saved by the bell' took on a whole new meaning when suddenly the signal came to inform them about the end of the period. Spencer jumped up quicker than he had been able to before all the training he had undergone, and left the classroom with a nervous wave to the petrified people still gaping after him.

'Concentrate! This can never happen again!' – He chided himself strictly. – 'You're on a mission, no girl is allowed override your sense of duty!'

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

The next and final lesson for the day was Computer Sciences which Spencer used to try and communicate with Hotch and his other teammates. He wrote everyone an e-mail then hit the 'send' button just to find that… absolutely nothing whatsoever happened.

"What the-?" – He marveled. – "Hey, sorry!" – He whispered to the nerdy boy sitting next to him, working on some Excel formule or another the genius had finished in five minutes. He needed three tries to get his classmate's attention, but finally, the boy looked up and turned towards him questioningly somewhat annoyed at being bothered. – "Do you happen to know why I can't send e-mails from here? It's like there's a problem with the internet connection, though everything else is working just fine…"

The boy looked at him in a way that told clearly he should have figured it out for himself.

"Don't you know? All means of outside communication have been blocked: Facebook, Twitter, Messenger, Instagram, E-Mails… Along with online games and all social sites. Everything! You can only use the internet when and how the teacher allows it."

"What!? But why would they do that?"

"Because everyone was just using the Computers class to play online game and to chat instead of paying attention; clearly. It's so dull ever since…" – He sighed before redirecting his full concentration at his own task again, presumably already having forgotten Reid even existed.

'Just great.' – Groaned Spencer inwardly, resigning himself to have to pretend to be engrossed in his work for the remainder of the period with nothing to distract himself with. He hated modern technology with a vengeance! It was so boring when a computer did everything for you and you didn't have to think…

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

He was still fuming while walking to the bus, thinking about how he needed to call Bennington soon and how Sydney really shouldn't be his top priority right now – but she was anyway. He was so deep in thoughts he didn't hear someone approaching him until the person tapped him on the shoulder, causing him to jump in surpire.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't want to scare you! I've been calling your name for ages…" – The ginger haired, freckled boy apologized. He was very tall and lean, much like Reid himself. – "You're called 'Rossi', right?"

"Yeah… Well, 'Rossi' is my father. Spencer will be just fine." – He said, slowing down somewhat to accommodate the boy's shorter strides. He could remember sharing Advanced Calculus with him. – "You're Robbie, aren't you?"

"Yes!" – The boy beamed; apparently he hadn't expected his new classmate to remember him at all. – "Robert Cain, but everyone just calls me Robbie. I was there in Calculus when you solved that problem in just a few seconds… That was impressive!"

Reid sighed, recognizing some serious hero-worship in the way the boy was looking at him with wide eyes. If that was how he had acted around Rossi in the beginning, no wonder the man had wanted to flee.

"Thanks. It was not such a big deal…"

"It is for me! I'm struggling with that class… I hate it!" – The boy said sadly, hanging his head. – "My father insisted I take it; he wants me to become an engineer." – He explained with a strained voice.

"And you don't want that?" – Spencer guessed, already feeling bad for the poor boy for not being allowed to pursue his own dreams.

Robbie shrugged.

"There are other things I'd like to do more but my father says they're for people who are… well. Not us. He's a lawyer, you know? And my mom is a doctor." – He didn't appear proud of a prestigious heritage like that.

"What are _you_ interested in?" – Inquired Reid kindly.

"I… ahm… You'll laugh at me." – The boy blushed.

"Why would I?"

"Because my father says I should be ashamed of myself to be thinking about it… Well… Okay: I'd like to sing and play music. I'd like to be part of a band and play in front of an audience… All right, go ahead: laugh."

Spencer stopped and turned to his classmate.

"Robbie, there's nothing to laugh about it; I think it's a brilliant idea!"

The boy seemed to be taken aback.

"You do?"

"I absolutely do! The world is full of horrible things… Everyone needs cheering up and music does just that. I wish there were more people like you." – He answered honestly.

"Wow, nobody has ever been supportive of my idea before! Thank you, Spencer." – Robbie looked suspiciously chocked up and took a moment to gather himself, while they continued their walk towards the bus stop. – "I wanted to… well… ask a favor of you, Spencer… Only if you don't mind, of course!"

Reid looked sideways at the boy.

"I don't think I'll mind. What would it be?"

"I… khm… could you… you know… khm…"

"Yes…?"

"Helpmewithmyhomework…"

"Sorry?"

"Could you help me with my homework? Please… I'll fail the class otherwise, I don't understand a word of what the teacher is saying."

"Oh! Of course, no problem." – But only if it wouldn't prevent him from helping Sydney, thought Reid to himself.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" – Spencer was afraid the boy would jump into his arms but luckily, in the end, he held himself back and said instead: - "You can ask for anything in exchange. Anything at all!"

"I don't nee-" – But then he got an idea… Hm… - "You don't happen to have a cell phone, do you?"

"Of course, I do!"

"And would you mind if I called someone very quickly? Just a moment, I swear."

"Of course, here!" – The smiling Robbie thrust a cell into the stunned Reid's hands right away, smiling happily that he could help his newfound friend.

The youngest profiler was facing a great dilemma: he should call Bennington and ask about his mother's health. He should call Hotch and tell him they were fine. He should be concentrating on his assignment to be done with it as soon as possible and get back to the BAU where they belonged. He should have done a lot of things but certainly not the one thing he actually did in the end: he dialed Sydney's number from memory.

She picked up at third ring.

 _\- Hallo?"_

Spencer felt his legs starting to shake and he stepped a bit farther away from a curiously looking Robbie so that he wouldn't overhear the conversation. He'd have to remember to delete the call list later…

\- Hi… khm… I'm Spencer."

 _\- Oh, Spencer! I'm so glad you called, I was afraid you wouldn't! Is it about the tutoring in French? Look, could we begin this week? I'll have a test next Wednesday and right now it all seems rather hopeless to me…"_

\- Ahm… Yes, of course, don't worry about it. Should we meet in the Library? Ahm… there _is_ a library, right? – He asked, only now realizing he hadn't seen it yet.

 _\- There isn't one within the school building, just a public one not far away and I don't really like it… Couldn't we go to your house? I would offer ours but I have a very annoying little brother, so…_

It wasn't a good idea. Not at all. His room didn't look anything like a teenage boy's room should look like and Rossi didn't know about her, and the members of the Organized Crime Unit would see her and-

\- All right. Let's meet by the main entrance after the last class on Friday then. Bye.

 _\- You're the best, Spencer! I can't wait! Bye!_

He quickly deleted all traces of the call before handing back the cell to his new friend.

"Thanks, Robbie, I appreciate it very much. I'd be glad to help you tomorrow after school, if it's all right with you?" – That way, Friday would be free for his date… khm… _tutoring_. Pull yourself together, Spencer!

"Great, after school then!"

Robbie was satisfied, Sydney was satisfied and Spencer was even more than that: he was _happy_. Who cared about anything else, right?

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

"So, Kiddo, did something interesting happen today?" – Asked the senior profiler as soon as he entered the apartment.

"No, nothing. I'm going to work on my room now." – With that, he disappeared inside.

The curious older man followed him in a few seconds, watching as the 'teenager' hung posters on the walls and placed books on the shelves, doing his best to make the room look like there was a sixteen-year-old boy living in it instead of an FBI agent with a brain too big for his own good.

"I thought you didn't care about appearances. Why is it suddenly so important?" – He inquired.

"I… well. You all told me I'm to befriend people from the school, right? Well, I sort of did and I invited one of them here for Friday."

"Wow, I must admit, I didn't think it would go this fast… You were very adamant not to make friends with 'children'. – Rossi teased while Reid threw some school things onto the desk to make it look more realistic.

"She might have important information…"

" _She_!? I see. That explains a lot."

"I really don't know what you're talking about, Rossi. She's a senior and has been a student here for years, so she might know something about the cult or find a teacher suspicious." – The boy insisted, ignoring the fact that whenever he as much as thought of Sydney, he seemed to forget the real reason he was here in the first place. – "It won't hurt to carefully ask." – He concluded, setting a Lego Darth Vader alarm clock (courtesy of Simon and Ian) on the nightstand as a finishing touch.

"Sure, Kiddo, whatever you say." – The older man winked. Actually _winked_! – "Just don't make me a grandfather for a while; I don't think I'm ready for that just yet. I only just became a father after all…" – With that said, he left the room still smirking, leaving a mortified Reid behind.


	12. Friends and Family

**Friends and Family**

The only positive thing about the next day Reid could have mentioned was the fact that it seemed to be over quickly. Soon, it was the end of the last period (a very boring Physics lesson), and he finally made his way to the meeting point where he'd join Robbie for the tutoring.

"Hi, Spencer! How was your day?" – The eager teenager asked, looking more excited about doing Calculus than anyone, in Reid's opinion, had any reason – or right – to be.

"Fine. Where would you like to go to study?"

"Let's go to my house; my father doesn't like it if I don't head home right away when school is out."

"All right."

Robbie's family lived a bit farther from the city center than the apartment complex the undercover FBI agents were currently residing in. The Cains owned a family house in the suburbs, surrounded by others that all looked exactly the same in a street that looked just like all the other streets in the area. Reid wondered how people managed to find their own homes in the evenings when they returned after work…

"That's where we live." – Explained Robbie quite unnecessarily while opening the front door and stepping inside. – "I'll introduce you to my parents; they should be both at home. Ahm… You don't mind if they'll ask a few questions, do you?" – He asked a bit sheepishly. – "They like making sure I'm in the right company…"

The genius raised a confused eyebrow but didn't get the opportunity to say anything because right then, a tall, bony woman approached with a decidedly fake smile plastered on her toadlike face (it actually resembled a grimace more than anything else), holding out her hand for him to shake.

"Hello, Mr…?"

"Rossi, mom. He's my new classmate, Spencer Rossi."

"Mr. Rossi. My son told us you'd visit today. Please, come in and sit down. Would you like something to drink?"

Reid carefully took a seat, feeling very self-conscious under her roaming gaze. Her curious grey eyes felt penetrating.

"No, ma'am, thank you very much."

I big and very stern-looking man approached, also holding out his hand. The profiler had to forcefully hold himself back from jumping up and running out of the house at this cold, businesslike greeting. Instead, he just stood to shake hands, trying not to think of all the germs that he might have acquired in these last couple of instances. ('It's okay, they can't see what contact does to you. Pull yourself together, man!' – He chanted mentally to himself.)

"Thank you, young man, for helping our son. I'm afraid he's not very smart. I don't know why though, we've certainly done our best…" – He lamented, upon hearing what Reid was there for in the first place.

Spencer gulped.

"Well, it's not a question about being smart. It could happen to anyone that they don't understand something and need a bit of help. It's fine." – He defended the other boy, feeling more and more sorry for him by the minute. – "I happen to like calculus a lot but I have trouble with other things I'm sure he'll be able to help me with."

Robbie looked so grateful, it made his heart hurt.

"Oh, I don't know, he's not really outstanding at anything." – Sighed the mother matter-of-factly. – "What do your parents do, young man?"

And here they were: the questions Robbie had been referring to. Reid knew he was being probed and he had to concentrate on getting the answers right because these people would be checking for sure.

"My mother died around half a year ago." – He recited their fabricated story. – "And my father travels a lot because of his books. We recently moved here so that his publisher would be nearby." – He explained, trying to sound sincere. – "He's a retired FBI agent and a writer now." – He added.

"Oh, a writer!" – Mrs. Cain's eyes took on an excited sparkle and Reid instantly understood where Robbie got his gleam from. – "Do I know him? Is he _famous_? What's his name?"

The genius had to fight the urge to throw up.

"His name's David Rossi, ma'am."

"David Rossi!? THE David Rossi!?" – Gasped Mr. Cain. Mrs. Cain was still unable to utter a word. So, they did know Rossi… Great… Just great… - "Robert, do you even know who your friend's father is?" – He turned towards his son accusingly. – "Why didn't you tell us?"

"I didn't-"

"You're incapable of doing anything right, boy!"

Seeing that the other boy was about to begin crying, Reid quickly spoke up:

"Mr. Cain, really, it's all right! We're friends with Robbie, I don't think it really matters who my father is-"

"Nonsense! With a father like that you shall be treated adequately too…"

"No! Really-"

"… Laura, do we have something to give to that young man? I'm sure he's hungry after a long day at school… Maybe-"

"No, but thank you! It's very nice of you, but I'm afraid we should begin with the homework… Come on, Robbie, let's start!" – He said, grabbing his classmate's arm and pulling him to a standing position.

The boy gratefully led him upstairs into his bedroom and closed the door behind them, before apologetically turning to his friend.

"I'm so sorry for that, Spencer. My parents are… well…"

By any other occasion it would have been comical to see someone behave even more awkward than him, thought Spencer. But, right now, it was only heart-wrenching.

"Don't mention it, Robbie. So, what would you like to begin with?"

They spent the next three and a half hours occupied with Advanced Calculus, forgetting everything else for the time being. In the end, Robbie was nearly in tears from gratitude, for he had, for once in his life, finally understood the equations and problems they had been learning this year and also found out why he hadn't been able to solve them.

"Oh, it seems so simple now that you've explained it! Why couldn't I get it before?"

Reid was secretly very proud of his 'student' – and also of himself – for having reached that point already. He had thought it would take a few meetings to get through the whole material. He was either a very good teacher or – and that latter was also very probable – Robbie wasn't as dumb as his parents made him out to be. Maybe even both.

"You know, you really have a knack for Math. I get that you don't want to become an engineer, and I still think it's fine, but you could definitely be." – He praised the blushing young man. – "You just needed it explained without the stress of having to hurry up and without others watching you struggle. Sometimes, it's easier if there's not a whole class to witness while you learn." – It was true. He had tutored many people during his school years and then later when he'd been at the university (he had desperately needed the money after all), and it was his experience that shy students usually worked much better when it was only the both of them with nobody else around.

"I'm so happy! I can't say 'thank you' enough! – The boy answered.

"You don't need to thank me." – Laughed Reid, getting ready to leave. – "If you'll have any more questions later, just come to me. I'm glad to help."

They said their goodbyes (Robbie's parents tried to coax him into staying for dinner which he had politely declined), and he walked to the bus stop.

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

It was nearly 9 PM when he got home and as soon as he opened the door, he found a livid Rossi waiting for him at the other side, looking as if he wanted nothing more than to throttle his wayward colleague.

" _Where have you been?_ " – He shouted, causing Reid to cringe and take a step backwards.

A quick look around the apartment confirmed that the members of the Organized Crime Unit were all present as well. Oh-oh… That certainly wasn't good then… What had he done!?

"At a classmate's house, tutoring him in Calculus." – Explained Reid with a nervous shrug, not really understanding why it should be a big deal.

Apparently, it was the wrong answer. Simon and Ian shook their heads simultaneously, Walker made a face, Marshal and Dean shared a knowing look. And Rossi… shouted some more.

"I thought you were kidnapped! I thought you were being tortured! I thought you were dead!"

Reid blinked.

"You do know I'm not _really_ a helpless sixteen-year-old teenage boy, don't you, Rossi? As a matter of fact: I never was. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself! Need I remind you that, normally, I live alone and usually work until much longer than that…? I sometimes get home after midnight without anyone to hold my hand or miss me if I get lost halfway!" – He said exasperatedly.

The older profiler didn't seem reassured by this piece of information at all.

"You could have called! You could have e-mailed! You could have at least used morse codes to tell me you were still alive, whatever! But did you? No, you didn't!" – He accused angrily.

"Actually, no: I couldn't have." – Rebutted Reid, getting angry at the reception himself now. – "Because I don't have a cell or any other means of communication; not even money to use a payphone. Someone thought it a good idea to keep us alienated from our lives, remember?" – He hissed. – "Never mind that I have a sick mother in a Sanatorium that I need to contact from time to time to make sure everything is all right. Never mind that, in order to do the job we've been sent to do, I'd need to actually be able to communicate with others. It's the 21st century after all, how do you think my 'classmates' will want to keep in touch if I befriend them, like you all…" – He pointed at the five agents. – "… told me to do!?"

There was momentarily silence. Rossi was still noticeably too angry to see his point but the others weren't; they had understood.

"You're right. I'm sorry." – Said Ian after a few minutes of thinking. – "We didn't have the right to deprive you of a way of talking to your families; and we didn't know about your mother. We're sorry. And you're also right about needing a cell phone and money in order to complete your tasks."

"I am?" – Hadn't it been too easy…?

"Yeah…" – Agreed Simon. – "We'll make sure Jasper provides you with everything you'll need."

With that, they silently left, Dean giving the genius' shoulder an encouraging squeeze, while Walker and Marshal tried to calm Rossi with a friendly handshake and some quietly murmured words. It didn't work, of course, and as soon as they remained alone, the senior profiler rounded on his young colleague again:

"So, you really think it's all right to disappear on me just because you're 21 instead of 16? Is that right, Reid!?" – He snarled dangerously.

"I-"

" _I'm_ 61 years old, _you_ won't convince me about your ripe age, boy!"

"Look-"

"You think it depends on age whether you're allowed to give me a heart attack or not!?"

"I did-"

"You think if you're an adult, I can't worry? Then nothing bad can happen? You can't be kidnapped if you're over 18? Or over 20? Or is 21 the magic age? Or WHAT!?"

"I would kno-"

"What would Hotch say? Morgan? Emily? JJ? Garcia? What would you tell them?" – He paused as if waiting for Reid to try to say something just to interrupt him again. To Rossi's immense surprise, the young man had changed tactics: he was listening intently, not even opening his mouth. The older profiler continued: - "What would _Gideon_ say!? Hmmm?" – Well, that had been a low blow. A cruel one at that. – "If you don't care about anything else, at least care about that. Gideon would be horrified."

Rossi finished, panting heavily. Reid deemed it safe to try to talk again.

"I don't think he'd have any problems with me living my life, you know. He never had before… And it doesn't matter because he's gone. Not coming back."

"But _I'm_ here, boy! I'm here and I nearly died this evening, waiting here for my son-" – He clapped his hands over his mouth and bit his tongue. – "I mean my teammate who's playing my son. For now. Yeah. That's what I meant."

Rossi was mortified about the slip; right now he was waiting for the boy to remind him how he didn't have any right to tell him what to do. That he wasn't really his father, just a colleague, and a new one who hadn't been very friendly in the beginning at all. Nothing more. If he argumented with that, the senior profiler knew he'd be right and he wouldn't be able to counter that. So, he just waited. And waited. And waited…

Reid studied him silently for two whole minutes, tilting his head to the side like a curious puppy when it was trying hard to understand the humans around him. In the end, he sighed.

"I'm sorry." – He said finally.

"I know I'm- Wait a minute… What did you say?" – Rossi was confused like hell. Had he heard right?

"I said: I'm sorry. It won't happen again. I promise to tell you from now on where I'm going and when I expect to be home. I'll also call you if my plan changes significantly."

"You will?" – The older man still couldn't believe it and kept waiting for the bomb to drop.

"Yeah. That's what parents expect of children in normal families, isn't it? I wouldn't really know; I was always allowed to do whatever I wanted. There was nobody to tell me differently… My father left us when I was little and my mother wouldn't even have realized if I had died in my sleep or something like that." – He admitted reluctantly. – "But I think that's what I would like my child to do, if I had one. To tell me where he or she is going and when they should be back. You know, to know when I have to start worrying."

"Oh… I guess…"

"You don't really want me to ask for permission every time I want to go out, right? I mean… I _am_ 21…"

" _No!_ No… It's fine. If you tell me, that is. And if you're careful. Don't forget why we're here; it could be dangerous. The others and I work all day to find something out but so far, we have nothing. I'll try it next week when I'll start giving lectures, but… It really seems like it will be up to you and all we can do is try to help you. And keep you safe. That's what we want."

"Okay… I think I'll go to bed now. Good night, Rossi."

"Good night, Kiddo.

The boy left as silently as a cat (though maybe, him being Reid, not quite so gracefully…), while the older man remained there, staring into the darkness for a good quarter of an hour, still not daring to believe he hadn't been told to mind his own business.

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

They were just being told that last period of Friday would fall out, since their new PE teacher would only begin next week and there was nobody to substitute now. Reid wasn't surprised, he had of course already known Dean had his first lesson on Monday.

"I hope the new one will be good. I don't want an old drill sergeant…" – Mused a boy.

"I hope he'll be _cute_!" – Added a giggling girl, causing Reid to choke on the takeaway coffee he was taking a sip from.

"Well, maybe he'll be a _she_." – Chided her a boy, clearly disapproving of the topic. He was also trying very hard to get her attention but the girl just walked towards the entrance dreamily, completely unaware of her worshipper's presense.

"Maybe he's young and unmarried!" – She continued. – "Maybe he's a champion! A real Hercules!"

Reid heard the boy's groan before they both disappeared outside. He settled comfortably onto an armchair in the lobby with a book, waiting for Sydney like they had agreed.

She arrived right at the moment the bell started ringing after the last period, standing in front of Reid and waving to get his attention. He gasped and dropped his book in surprise.

"Oh! Hi!"

"What were you doing?" – She asked. – "I've been watching you; you couldn't have been reading. Not at that rate."

"I was… ahm… looking for a quote I'd like to use for an essay…" – He fibbed.

"In Dan Brown's _The Da Vinci Code_?" – She asked baffled.

"Oh… yeah… it's for World History… We're talking about arts… Ahm… Shall we go?"

"Yep!"

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

"Ro- ahm… _Dad_! We're home!" – Reid shouted as soon as they got into the apartment. Not surprisingly, he found Rossi in the kitchen, cooking spaghetti and baking Italian cookies. – "Ahm… Hi, Dad… This is Sydney, we go together to school." – He introduced her, watching warily as his 'father' wiped his hands and then approached them with a wide smile on his face.

"Young lady, I'm so happy to finally meet you!" – He said, completely ignoring Reid who was wildly shaking his head behind the girl's back for him to stop talking. – "I've heard a lot about you, of course."

"Really? I'm happy to meet you too, Mr. Rossi." – She said politely, shaking the man's hand.

"Oh, just Dave, please. My son's friends are always welcome here." – The genius wanted to sink into the ground right then and there. – "Would you two like to eat? Everything is ready."

"No, Dad, I th-" – Began Reid quickly.

"I'd be glad to!" – Said Sydney at the same time.

"Oh… Well. We could eat, I guess…" – The genius shrugged helplessly.

Spencer set the table while Rossi led the girl to her seat before returning to the kitchen for the bowl of food.

"It's a real Italian recipe: 'pasta con pomodoro e basilico', I have it from my grandmother who had it from her own grandmother and so on. It's been in the family for ages. We, Rossis, value our food. I'm afraid my son might not have inherited this as much as I'd have liked too, but I still haven't given up on him." – He explained winking, while filling the plates.

"Oh, Mr. Rossi, this is delicious!" – Sydney exclaimed as soon as she tasted the sauce. – "I just love pasta but this is the best I've ever had!"

"Dad is a master of cooking pasta." – Said Reid who wasn't really hungry at all since he'd had lunch at school before.

"Pasta is best when it's not sticky and lumpy. I, personally, like it _al dente_."

"What's that mean?" – Asked Sydney curiously.

"That means it can be neither too hard nor too soft; it needs to be firm and 'bite-like'. Chewy." – Rossi explained, happy that someone cared enough to ask.

Reid perked up, not really having listened before.

"What about Chewie!? I like him too!"

Sydney and Rossi both rolled their eyes exasperatedly at that. They were already ganging up on him!

"Maybe I _should_ give up hope and admit defeat…" – Mused Rossi and Sydney heartily laughed.

After the pasta, Rossi brought the dessert.

"Italian Rainbow Cookies, from my great-grandmother Rosa."

"These look divine!" – Sydney praised, taking an experimental bite. – "And they're just as good as they look!"

After dinner, the two youngsters retreated into Reid's room to study.

"I like your room! It looks very comfy." – She remarked upon entering. – "And your dad is the best. You're so lucky!"

"Ahm… Thanks."

They started preparing for her test the next week, practicing forming sentences in French.

"I just don't get it!" – She lamented after ten minutes. – "I'll never be able to conjugate French verbs normally!" – She was close to tears, pulling at her hair desperately.

Reid gently took her hands and pulled them away from her golden locks.

"I agree, it's really very difficult if you just try to memorize the conjugation tables without actually thinking about what you're learning. But if you want to know the language, to really _know_ it I mean, then you do it differently." – He explained.

"How?" – She inquired.

"Well: you watch films in French. You read books in French. You talk to someone in French and write e-mails with them. That's how. You use the language for _communication_. That's what it is for after all."

"But how do I do this if I can't speak it properly? Everyone would just laugh at me!"

"No, nobody would laugh at you. You shouldn't worry about speaking 'properly'. You just do your best and you will improve rapidly."

"And with whom could I speak? There's nobody…"

"That's not true: _I_ am here. I'll help you. Now we'll have to prepare you for the test, that's clear, but on the long run, I want you to really speak French instead of just wanting to get through mindless exams."

"That would be great!"

They continued for another two hours, and in the end, Sydney felt ready for the coming test.

"I can't thank you enough. I think I finally understand irregular verbs and may be able to use them." – She said gratefully while packing her things.

"There's still time until Wednesday, should you have more questions." – They left his room. – "Ro- Dad! I'm taking Sydney home!" – He called for Rossi who was now in his room. – "I'll be back in an hour."

Rossi came out to say goodbye to the girl. It was evident he liked her very much.

"You're welcome any time here, Sydney. Don't be a stranger."

An hour later when Reid returned, Rossi was waiting in the living room.

"I was not longer than an hour. Don't tell me, I worried you again!" – Pleaded the boy defensively, checking his watch again.

"I'm not saying that. I just wanted to make sure you get home in one piece." – He smirked. – "Or that you get home at all."

Reid screeched mortified:

"Rossi!"

"What? That girl is beautiful and kind and smart... You know, I don't think I'm ready to become a grandfather yet but she'll soon finish school and in a few years-"

" _Rossi_!"


	13. The First Clue

**The First Clue**

"Hey, Kiddo. Ian is here: we have our cell phones and some money." – Greeted him Rossi the next morning, when the genius staggered out of his room at 8 AM still half-asleep. Spencer didn't usually sleep this long but it was Saturday after a long week at school and he had been very tired.

"Super! Hi, Ian! I'll call Bennington right away!" – He exclaimed, taking the offered cell phone and looking at it in disdain. – "What's that?"

"This is the newest smartphone…" – Shrugged Ian, looking questioningly at Rossi. – "Isn't that what's 'trendy' among teenagers now? It has all the popular applications and we have even set up an e-mail account for you…"

"Oh, yes, it is!" – Groaned Reid. – "People don't realize how surrounding themselves with all that modern technology turnes them _stupid_! Where are the times you had to be able to read a map? Now the GPS just tells you in which direction to turn; some people would be dead without it!"

"Well, not us!" – Joked Ian, referring to their first task during training. – "And especially not you; you needn't worry about it."

"I'm worried for _humankind_!" – Countered Reid. Ian looked bewildered, while Rossi just smirked. – "And when you needed to do basic math equations on your own because you didn't have a calculator at you at all times? Or when we actually used pens to write? And read on paper? And-"

"Kiddo: we get it, all right?" – Soothed him the senior profiler. – "Calm down, you'll make yourself sick. Just go and call Bennington." – When Reid returned to his room to make the call, Rossi turned apologetically to Ian. – "Sorry about that. He's against all these modern things. We all use tablets for work now, except for him: he still insists on getting the casefiles in paper format. Our technical analyst claimes she'll go mad because of him."

The other agent chuckled.

"Why am I not surprised? He just can't be average in anything, can he?"

"No, he really can't…"

"It's okay. If you guys would like to, we could do something together today. Go to the movies, or something. It's not every day we have time to relax, is it? I don't think he has gained enough information yet that would require us to work today."

"It sounds wonderful. I'll talk to our oddball genius when he's ready with his call and we'll come upstairs to join you."

"That sounds like a plan. See you later then."

Ian left and Rossi contemplated his brand-new cell for a while before dialing Hotch's number. The unit chief picked up almost immediately.

 _\- Aaron Hotchner._

\- Aaron, it's me.

 _\- Dave!? Oh, my God! Dave! What happened to you two? Where are you? We've been trying to find you and we've done everything and Emily helped and-_

\- Calm down! We're fine. I'm not really allowed to tell you much; it's all top secret… We weren't able to call before. I'm sorry you were worried.

\- ' _Worried'!? Worried doesn't describe what we've gone through! You can't even begin to imagine what what we felt like not knowing about you for days! But are you sure you're both all right?_

\- Absolutely. There's nothing for you to worry about. And you all?

 _\- We miss you and we've been concerned… Otherwise, nothing interesting has happened. Tell me everything… everything you can, I mean. Where's Reid? Can I talk to him too? Are you taking care of him? He's so young…_

\- Young is about right… He's talking to the doctors at Bennington right now, he's been a bit irritated about having no contact to his mother's caregivers. As soon as he's done, you can talk to him. He is all right, Aaron. Really. The members of the Organized Crime Unit are very supportive of us and they literally adore the kid.

 _\- Then they don't bully him? Are you sure? Reid is not your normal FBI agent and they are an elite group… I feared they might try to intimidate him or something._

\- No, no. Nothing like that. Besides, you'd be surprised how well the boy can adapt if needed. Oh, he's coming. Wait.

Rossi had just spotted Reid exiting his room and headed towards him.

"Kiddo, would you like to talk to Aaron?" – He asked.

"Sure!" – He took his older colleague's cell.

\- Hotch? Hi!

 _\- Reid! Oh, Spencer, how are you? Is everything all right?_

\- We're fine, Hotch. You know what I think?

 _\- What?_

\- I think when we'll return to the BAU, I'd like to take a more active part in our field operations.

 _\- Ahm… What?_

\- I can shoot now and I can take care of myself… I want to be a real agent!

 _\- You are a real agent!_

\- Then let me work like one.

 _\- Reid… What happened? What makes you say these things? Did they make fun of you?_

\- No, nothing… I think Rossi wants the phone back. He's hitting my head… Ouch, ROSSI! Bye, Hotch!

The senior profiler snatched the device from the laughing youngster's hand and glared at the naughty boy for three whole seconds. He would have continued but then he realized their unit chief was positively panicking on the other side of the line.

 _\- Dave!? Dave! DAVE!_

\- Jesus, Aaron! I'm here, you don't have to scream like that!

 _\- No, you weren't here. What happened? What is Reid talking about? I don't understand anything!_

\- When do we understand what he's talking about? Calm down, Aaron. He's just being Reid. Look, we need to go, we're meeting the others soon. We'll talk in a few days again, all right? Bye.

He quickly pressed the button to end the call, knowing there was no way he could come out good from this one.

He then turned to his prankster son… khm… colleague.

"What was that, Spencer? You know we're not supposed to tell them anything."

"I didn't!"

"You were provoking Aaron to ask!"

"But I wouldn't have told."

"You're cruel."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not."

"You're also childish."

"I'm not playing this game alone." – The boy shrugged.

The older man sighed, giving up the fight. He wouldn't win anyway.

"Did you reach Bennington? Is your mother all right?" – He inquired kindly, knowing that his mother's situation weighed heavily upon the young man's mind constantly.

"Yeah. Well… No change." – Reid tried desperately not to look bothered about the call but failed miserably.

Rossi felt instantly symphatetic.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

Another shrug, this time more resigned than before.

"It's neither good nor bad. It just is." – He visibly shook himself. – "Come on, let's go. The others are waiting for us."

Rossi understood then that the topic was closed – for now, at least.

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

The weekend had been more fun than what Reid had had in a very long time. Somehow, between going to the movies, playing Scrabble and Monopoly (games Simon had secretely bought the 'teenager' as a present) and laughing at silly jokes with the members of the Organized Crime Unit, both profilers found themselves enjoying their current situation more than they would have thought possible.

Not that they'd ever tell this any of their teammates, of course, as they were sure none of them would understand; Hotch's panicky reaction to their phone call had only strengthened their resolve no to disclose anything about this assignment even if they'd be allowed to do so. As a matter of fact, Reid could just picture Garcia's frown or Morgan's biting remarks without having to think about it long.

On Monday, he returned to school feeling more confident and sure about his task then he had the week before. He could do this. He _would_ do this.

He started by striking up conversations with his various classmates, though, sadly, it didn't go too well…

Most of them went like this:

"Hi, I'm Spencer."

"Are you on Facebook?"

"Aaahm. No."

"Instagram? Twitter? Snapchat? LinkedIn? Google+? Tumblr? Flickr?..." – Spencer just shook his head in confusion, not even having heard about half of these before. – "Anything? Do you at least use the Messenger? Are you a vlogger? Blogger? You aren't even subscribed to YouTube? _Who the hell are you_?" – And his classmates was back to playing on his/her cell phone, ignoring the boy wo apparently didn't even exist in this funny cyber world.

It was devastating for Reid to see the future adults, taxpayers and voters to be this… weird. And everyone said _he_ was a freak!? Please…

"Hi. Can I sit here? Every other seat seems to be taken…" – He said to a dark-haired, chubby boy in his Sociology class; the third period that day, since the first two (Geography and Algebra II) hadn't brought any success, unless you counted him being praised to the extremes for his math knowledge…

"Yeah… whatever."

"Thanks." – He said, sliding his bag under the table and sitting down. – "I'm Spencer Rossi. I joined in last week; I remember seeing you on Thursday." – He began amicably (or at least in a way he hoped was considered friendly by the people in general), gritting his teeth to keep his disgust in check. Initiating any kind of contact with others really wasn't him at all, but what was there to do? It was his responsibility now to learn of his schoolmates as much as possible, even if he was beginning to lose hope they'd even noticed a bomb exploding right next to them. Unless it affected the wifi, that's it…

"I don't remember you."

"Oh…" – Great start, way to go Spencer… Trust him to choose the only person in the entire universe who seemed to be even more introverted than him. Morgan would have a field day… - "Do you often get new students in the middle of the semester?"

"Dunno."

"Okay…"

It meant one thing: he'd have to endure another 45 minutes of complete boredom for nothing. Admittedly, his earlier enthusiasm was quickly dissipating.

Nothing promising happened in German either, given the fact that they were only allowed to speak… well: German during the whole class, and nobody but him and the teacher seemed to be able to do that; meaning that, after the brief introduction at the beginning of the class, he got to enjoy a full thirty-five minutes of 'interesting' conversation with the blond and bespectactled woman in her late forties who couldn't have been happier to finally have someone to understand her native language and also speak it fluently.

"Sind Sie sich sicher, Sie kommen nicht aus Deutschland, Herr Rossi? Oder haben Sie vielleicht deutsche Eltern? Andere Verwandte?" – She asked for the fifteenth time when Reid was trying to make a beeline towards the exit at the end of the class, standing in front of him, effectively blocking his way. Looking aroun, he realized everyone else was already gone.

"Ja, Frau Krüger. Ich bin mir ziemlich sicher… Entschuldigen Sie mir bitte, ich muss jetzt aber wirklich gehen… Auf Wiedersehen!" – And he all but ran out of the room, not looking back at all.

American History was the next thing on the agenda, and he wasn't sure he should even hope… But then, finally, a miracle happened!

"I'm Spencer Rossi, I came last week…" – He recited somewhat tiredly to a tall, lanky boy who wore three earrings in his right ear and had his nose pierced. Looking at this… _phenomenon_ , Reid was getting closer by the second to giving up this plan.

"Hi, I'm glad to meet you, Spencer! I'm Taylor Madden."

Oh, that was a pleasant surprise! The boy was talking to him _and_ looking at him.

"Hi! I just wanted to ask if I could sit here…"

"Of course, come on."

"Thanks." – He placed his notebook and history book onto the table while he tried to come up with a topic to discuss with the boy. Nobody he had tried to talk to had seemed remotely interested in him up until now, so he wasn't very prepared for this turn of events. And Taylor didn't have a cell in his hand! – "So… What's this class like?" – He inquired, hoping this would make the boy start talking.

"It's okay, I guess. A bit boring. The usual stuff, you know. Where are you from?"

"I'm… from a private school so I'm not sure I know how things work here." – He continued quickly, wishing that Taylor would drop the topic about his old school and tell him about this one instead. – "I mean, it's not the classes I'm worried about. I'm more afraid that I won't find any friends… I don't open up easily… Do you know where students like me… you know… _hang out_?" – That was the correct expression amongst teenagers, right? Well, he had planted the seed, since Rossi and him had profiled a question like that (with acting accordingly, of course) could get the answer out of someone who knew about the cult. Now he just waited.

And waited and waited. The other boy seemed to seize him up, contemplating the response for a long time.

"What do you usually do in your free time?" – He asked finally and Reid instantly knew it was a test of some sort.

"I…" – Now what to say to that? – "Khm…" – He hung his head as if embarrassed, using the profile they had come up with during the weekend for the students who would be likely to join a secret cult and even be willing to commit suicide for it. – "I don't really have anyone to spend time with. I'm mostly just walking around doing… dunno… nothing, really. But I don't like sitting at home all the time. My father is always buy with his writing and my mother is dead. I don't have siblings. I was hoping, this new school could bring some changes…"

"Well… I might have something for you."

Don't look too eager, don't look too eager… Thought Reid, trying to act happy and grateful about the proposition but not too much so.

"Oh, that would be great. Is it a club or something?" – He pressed gently. – "I tried a chess club once but it didn't quite work out. I don't think it was for me. But I'd be willing to give anything else a try…" – He added, hoping to sound sincere.

"It's not a chess club. It's more like… A regular gathering for outcasts like me. And by the looks of it, you too."

"That would be great! Can I join you the next time you go?"

"No." – Oh… What had he done wrong? – "It doesn't work like that. You have to prove yourself worthy first.

Ooo… There was an iniciation then… They had talked about it and everyone had agreed Reid should do whatever it took, except for anything potentially dangerous. Should it come to a test that would harm him or others, they'd work together on faking it but he was in no way to actually do it.

"And how could I prove myself?" – He asked calmly, waiting with 'bated breath for Taylor to tell him how this all worked. He was sure he was on the right track now!

"Not here!" – They boy hissed. – "We can't talk about it here! If you're really sure, meet me at 10 PM at the football field tonight. I'll tell you then."

Reid raised an eyebrow.

"10 PM?"

"Is it a problem?"

"Oh, no, no. It's not. All right. 10 PM…"

He'd need help. Lots of help.

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

Dean's first PE lesson could not have come at a better time: it was Reid's last class for the day and he desperately needed to talk to someone about his plans for the night.

So, he endured all the sit-ups, push-ups and running without (much) complaint before they were finally allowed to do the fun stuff: play basketball. Not that Reid would consider it 'fun' (he could definitely easily find other, less positive expressions to describe the sport) but others seemed to enjoy running after a big and heavy ball that was occasionally hitting them in the head. Inexplicable…

When the period was finally over, he lingered while others filed out of the gym hall, talking excitedly among themselves, saying things like:

"Mr. Kennedy is the best PE teacher we've ever had!"

Or:

"He's the _cutest_ for sure!"

The girls, who had been allowed to spend the whole class playing badminton and/or table tennis, were especially enthusiastic about Dean and didn't appear shy voicing it in his presence at all.

Reid turned to his temporary teammate to gauge his reaction and found the man looking quite satisfied with himself. Pff, it figures.

As soon as they were finally alone, Dean silently motioned for Reid to follow him to the storage room where they kept all sports equipment, under the pretense of asking for help organizing and packing away all the balls and rackets they had used.

"So, what was I like as a teacher?" – The man asked, smiling mischievously. – "I mean, other than 'the best ever' and 'cute', because I already know these."

Reid snorted. He climbed up to sit on a vaulting box, not really intending to help the older man arrange the storage.

"Yeah, right. Well, next time try not to kill me during warm-up excercises." – He advised.

"Hey, I was about to offer to give you extra training, so that you can astound your friends when you return to the BAU!" – Dean countered in mock hurt. – "Don't you want to surprise them with all your new skills when they see you again?"

"If they ever see me again, it _will_ _be_ a surprise." – He said, then explained about his conversation with Taylor and his plans for the nighttime outing to do God knew what with unknown people…

After learning the new information, the Organized Crime Unit member seemed contemplative.

"You're right. It sounds like you're hot on the trail." – He agreed. – "We can't afford not to pursue it. But I also don't want you doing it alone."

"Well, it's not like I can invite either of you to join the party, can I?" – Stated Reid sarcastically. – "I can already see how successful I'd be if I had my 'daddy' accompany me to prove myself."

Dean shook his head.

"Not like that, obviously. But you'll definitely be wired." – He checked his watch. – "You need to go; it would be suspicious if anyone saw us talking for long. We'll have time until you have to go to the football field. We'll come up with something. I'll talk to the others but it's up to you to explain it to David. I'm not going to break this to him; he'd take off my head."

"Coward!"

"No, just contrary to popular belief, we don't completely lack self-preservation instinct." – The man pointed out and pulled the boy down from the vaulting box.

"I think most of the FBI would readily disagree with you on that." – Informed him Reid, gathering his things and getting ready to go.

"But then again, they don't know us, do they?"

"That only means they can't be sure, not that they're not right." – Argued the young genius smiling.

Dean just shook his head, clearly enjoying the verbal battle.

"See you later, Genius Boy."


	14. The Game is On

**The Game is On**

"Ouch, you poked me with this thing again!" – Complained the youngest profiler for the third time in ten minutes, causing Walker, who'd been up until now tending to him with seemingly infinite patience, to roll his eyes exasperatedly.

"Genius Boy, this is just a wire: it's not even sharp! I can't poke you with it! And if you just stopped squirming already, we'd be done in a second!"

"But I told you: you poke me all the time! I can feel it!"

"No, you can't because it's impossible." – Explained Marshal, finally deciding to help out his friend.

"Then he _scratched_ me! He has claws instead of nails!"

Everyone had been watching this ridiculous fight of the two so different FBI agents the entire time with growing enjoyment but seeing the normally calm Walker Ford so close to giving up prompted them to step in and do something.

"This whole process wouldn't be so difficult if you weren't so skinny and tiny." – Marshal added, referring to the fact that the hidden microphone wasn't so 'hidden' if the wire kept sliding down the boy's thin torso all the time. – "I thought David was feeding you just like us? We've all gained at least five pounds since moving here with him, so why haven't you!?"

"I don't know! And I'm _cold_! Not to mention I feel like James Bond with this stupid chip fastened to my skin. Maybe Bryar was right: we are being watched! It's the Government! The FBI _is_ the Government after all!"

"Who the hell is Bryar?" – Asked Ian but Rossi only shrugged. He had no idea what the kid was talking about but this wasn't news for him. Having an odd genius around made one accustomed to not being able to follow certain conversations – everyone on the BAU team knew that; the members of the Organized Crime Unit would have to get used to it as well.

Dean chuckled.

"You know, Genius Boy, I don't think James Bond whines like a baby every time he's outfitted with equipment. Q surely wouldn't put up with it."

"No?" – Raised the genius an eyebrow. – "Well, let's see…" – He started counting on his fingers. – "He whines about only getting a standard issue radio transmitter and a gun; saying: 'Not exactly Christmas, is it?'…" – He quoted, using his best British accent; which actually wasn't convincing at all. You'd have expected someone who spoke a dozen or so foreign languages to be a bit more confident using a different accent of English. But no. It was Reid and Reid couldn't be anything you'd expect him to be. It just couldn't happen. – "…then he whines about only getting a watch that doesn't do anything. He says-"

"Okay, okay! We get it! Gee… You have a reply to everything, don't you?"

Reid looked quite satisfied with himself.

"Of course. I'm a genius after all."

In the end, it took Simon and Walker's combined effort and a bit more complaining from their resident 'teenager' but the radio was fastened on him and also – which was very important – invisible to any outside observer.

Well, of course, the youngest of them all had something to say about this too.

"Unless they make me strip. It could be part of the iniciation process to skinny dip, or something. I read about rituals like that…" – He pointed out shrugging. – "And then BUMM!; the whole game is up."

The 'BUMM!'-part had been so loud, accompanied by an earsplitting clap that Marshal, who had been half-asleep on the couch, jumped up and pulled out his gun to defend his team if necessary. Rossi looked mortified too, though for an entire different reason.

"Who did you say you were meeting out there tonight, Kiddo? Not Sydney, hmm?"

Dean noticeably perked up.

"And just who is Sydney, if I may ask?" – He smirked.

"You may not." – Hissed Reid, red as a tomato. – "And no, Rossi, I'm not meeting her! It's a boy named Taylor!"

"A boy… Hmm… Is there something you'd like to tell me, 'son'?" – By now the poor boy looked like he was about to explode. And the senior profiler still wasn't finished yet; he was enjoying teasing his unfortunate colleague way too much. – "Because I won't judge, you know. I'm sure the others won't either. You seem so worried about your privacy-"

"ROSSI!"

"Okay, okay. Sorry. I surrender. Though I really wouldn't judge-"

" _ROSSI_!"

"I still want to know who Sydney is!" – Insisted Dean. – "Is she taking PE with me? Did she call me cute too like the other girls?"

The genius gritted his teeth.

"No. She called ME 'cute'!" – Well, that wasn't _exactly_ true… But it could be, right?

"Oh! I want to hear more too!" – Piped in Simon who had been silently observing them until now. – "Is she a student at your school? Is she nice? Does she look good? Is she-"

"I'm going to get my things!"

With that, he stomped out, giving the impression of a pouting two-year-old. The others smiled fondly at him, actually enjoying this not-so-normal assignment very much. After all the horrible things they'd done in the last months/years, seeing the brighter side of the world was an incredibly pleasant change. The members of the Organized Crime Unit were becoming somewhat envious of the BAU for having a genius youngster in their mids.

Simon sighed.

"We need to get one too."

"A radio?" – Asked Rossi confusedly.

"No." – Ian shook his head. – "A Doctor Spencer Reid of our own. Our dungeon would be a much happier place for sure."

"Oh! He calls it The Batcave…"

Ian snorted with a laugh.

"That's nice of him."

"Well, he's not for sale. Just so you know, even profilers can be dangerous when they get fiercely protective!" – The senior profiler warned, only half-joking. He could already picture Morgan and Hotch organizing a whole army and Garcia enlisting her nerdy friends to make life miserable for anyone who dared think about taking _their_ 'little brother' away from them. If there was one thing he had learnt during his brief time at the 'new' BAU, then it was that their genius was untouchable. He still vividly remembered the dressing down he had received from Hotch about his behavior towards the youngest and the certainty he had felt that, even though the unit chief hadn't outright gone and said it, they would choose Reid over him in a heartbeat if they came to the conclusion they couldn't work together at all. Now, that he had gotten to know the young man better, he could understand their sentiment perfectly. There was something about that boy that made everyone love him and want to protect him… (Except for his biological father, but that was an entire different story he didn't understand himself.)

"I have no doubt about you being dangerous. But a pity nonetheless… Well, let's start testing the signals; I don't want to lose him. We'd never live to tell the tale."

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

It was 10 PM and Reid stood alone at the gate of the sports club, waiting for Taylor to arrive, hoping he hadn't been set up and left behind for a janitor to find. He hadn't told anyone but a meeting on the football field brought up horrible memories for him he had wanted to forget for long. Sadly, with an eidetic memory, it seemed an impossible feat to achieve…

Finally, the other boy arrived after nearly ten minutes of waiting, by which time Reid had been close to giving up and walking away.

"Hi." – The young man simply said.

"Hi…" – Answered the genius, doing his best to appear confident and not scared to death. He was an FBI agent for God's sake and this was a 17-year-old highschool boy! He had nothing to be afraid of! – "So… where to now?" – Please, let's not stay here, let's not stay here… He mentally chanted. The mere thought of being humiliated again, and this time with his entire team being witness to it, was more than he could bear.

"The others are waiting for us at the top of the hill." – The boy said, pointing at the small mound not far away. Calling it a 'hill' was a bit of an exaggeration but the genius; however unusual for him; wisely kept his mouth shut and only nodded in agreement before following his new friend.

When they arrived, he could see two other boys and three girls sitting in the grass, talking animatedly amongst each other, only quieting when they saw the new addition approach them.

"Spencer, this is Amalia, July, Rebecca, Tommy and-"

"Robbie!?" – Reid hadn't expected to see him here of all places! Thought it made sense, with parents like his, the boy most likely wanted to belong somewhere.

"Oh, you two know each other already? That's great; you'll have someone to vouch for you then. Everyone: this is Spencer Rossi. He'd like to join our club."

"This is the club?" – Asked the profiler in disbelief, feeling stupid to have thought it would be so easy… Of course, he hadn't found the cult on his second week. Of course he was about to join some book club or something now. Of course-

"No, silly! The Leader sent us to determine whether you'll be allowed to join or not." – Oh… - "If you pass our tests tonight, you'll be invited to the next meeting. If not, well then… You don't want to find out."

Reid swallowed.

"The… 'Leader'…? Who is it?"

One of the girls – Rebecca – giggled.

"You don't think we'd tell you, do you? Not even all the members know the Leader's true identity! Only the most trusted ones in the inner circle: that's us, by the way. You won't belong here for a long time. Probably ever."

"Oh… and what _tests_ were you talking about?" – Reid inquired, fearing the worst. – "I won't have to skinny dip or something similar, will I?" – The funny expressions he got were answer enough and he could particularly hear the sniggering from the other end of the wire, even though this communication was only one-sided. Just great, he had already made a fool of himself…

"First, you'll have to answer a few questions." – Said the boy named Tommy. – "Sit down."

"I'd rather just stand."

"Spence… Sit down." – Repeated Robbie in an apologetic way but making it clear nevertheless that he didn't have a choice.

Heaving a sigh, Reid sat down in the moisty and cold grass. It was dark, chilly and generally very uncomfortable for him here, but he had to suck it up for the Greater Good. At least that was what he wanted to make himself believe.

"All right. Fire the questions." – He said, knowing full well everything depended on his profiling skills now. If he gave wrong answers, he'd be sent away and never given a chance again.

"Okay. First: does your father know where you are?"

That was easy.

"No."

"What did you tell him?"

"Nothing."

"Didn't he ask?"

"He's busy with writing his new book and preparing for the lessons he'll have in our school. He'll begin tomorrow." – A half-orphan boy with a too busy living parent… Reid knew he had done good up to that point. He could also see the appreciation on everyone's faces and also Robbie's nod, confirming everything he had just said.

"So he just let you go."

"He didn't notice; he was in his room with the door shut."

"Won't he check on you?"

"He never does."

"Does he ever ask about school and about what happened to you during the day?" – This was a tricky one. He had talked to Robbie and explained how his father cared about him; he had to tread carefully now because complete lies would just get him in trouble.

"Yes. He loves me, you know? He's just too busy to really pay attention… So he asks me every day when I get home. I tell him it was fine and that's it. He's back to working on his book again." – Actually, he was glad the others were listening in; Rossi would have to know how to behave towards him in the school and at home, should anyone visit, to keep up the lies he was feeding now. He just hoped to God Sydney wasn't part of the cult. He actually couldn't decide if she liked him or Rossi's cooking more…

"Are you a coward?"

"NO! I'm not!" – He insisted, faking hurt at the very thought.

"Do you value your life?"

Oh, another difficult one. If their information was correct, the cult might be preparing for mass suicide… The inner circle must know about it. But even so, it would be somewhat suspicios if a '16-year-old' boy declared the wish to kill himself for… what exactly? He didn't even know what it was supposed to be about.

"Well…" – He took a deep breath and began explaining. – "I used to, a lot. But then some things happened…" – He said dramatically. But not too much so. At least, he hoped. – "I only ever knew one of my grandmothers but she died years ago. I have no other grandparents to speak of and no other relatives either. And then, not so long ago, my mother died too… With my dad always so busy and moving to a new city. Going to a new school… I don't know. It's just all too much, I guess." – He hung his head and whispered the last sentence as if telling a great secret.

Apparently, he had done well, for all the other teenagers looked satisfied with the explanation. Rossi and the OCU should be impressed.

Taylor regarded him for a few seconds, before asking:

"Are you afraid of death?"

Reid thought about it. At least, faked thinking. He had, of course, already profiled the correct answer to that too and had expected this question to arise.

"I haven't really thought about it before but I don't think so. I might meet my mom again…"

"And…" – The boy called Tommy pressed. – "What do you do when you're angry at the whole world and feel like nobody can understand you…?"

Reid could tell there was only one good answer to that. He also knew he didn't want the others the hear what he felt he needed to say, even if they wouldn't know how true it had been for a while… Well, Rossi would probably guess but he trusted the man that he wouldn't tell anyone.

"I… khm…" – He had to say it. Dean and the rest would believe it was only an act like everything else. – "… sometimes take drugs… Dilaudid, to be precise…"

"And what does it make you feel like?"

Oh, he did know the answer to that. Better than anyone would think…

"Free… It's like you're floating on clouds and looking down at everything else from above: just an outside observer, not part of it. You know intellectually that it hurts but you can't feel it. It's like everything is happening to someone else. Like watching television. It's an escape from all reality."

There was momentarily silence, during which time all the teenagers sat quietly observing him, all seemingly deep in thoughts. Just when Reid was starting to fear he had said something wrong, Taylor scooted over to him, holding out an arm. It was not easy to see in the dark but the genius could just make out the cigarette that he was being offered.

He hesitated.

"Take it! This is part of the test." – The other boy warned. The others nodded.

"I don't smoke…" – Tried the youngest profiler, causing the girls to laugh out loud.

"Silly! This isn't a cigarette! It's weed!"

"Oh!" – Much better, really… - "Okay…"

He slowly and carefully took the dreaded object, feeling as if it weighted a hundred pounds. What was he to do now? If he didn't smoke it, the whole game would be over before it even began. If he did smoke it, he wouldn't live to continue the investigation, for Rossi would surely kill him as soon as he got back home. There was no winning in this situation.

Before he could think of a solution, the little devil was lit and everyone started inhaling it as if their lives depended on it. He pretended to do so as well, even adding some coughs to his act. He had just told them he didn't smoke, so a bit of discomfort would surely be expected of him.

After a few minutes, Robbie stood up and offered him his hand to shake.

"Welcome to the club, Spencer. We'll have to discuss your case with The Leader but I'm sure it'll be fine. You'll soon get an invitation to join us for a meeting with all the members."

So that was it. _He was in._

'It wasn't even very difficult.' – He thought to himself as he was walking home.

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

"I can't believe you did that!" – Was all the greeting he got from his oldest colleague as soon as he entered the apartment and he instantly got a feeling of déjà vu… – "Didn't we talk about it? Didn't we tell you you're not to do anything stupid, Boy!?" – The senior profiler snarled. He looked like an angry dragon about to breathe fire.

"What are you talking about? I didn't do anything!" – Defended himself Reid, turning to the members of the Organized Crime Unit for help. He saw them flinch at the older man's angry outburst but none of them said anything to back him up. The cowards.

"You didn't do anything? You didn't DO anything? Smoking marihuana is 'nothing' then? I didn't think I'd learn anything knew at my age!"

"But I didn't really smoke it! I just pretended to do so! What else could I have done to get accepted? That was my job, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, of course. _Pretended_. Do you think I'm stupid? You _coughed_! We could hear everything, did you forget that!?"

The genius felt himself getting furious about this treatment again.

"And do _you_ think _I_ am stupid!? Of course I coughed! I had just told them I don't smoke, don't you think it would have been a bit too suspicious if I hadn't? Come on, Rossi, you know me better than that!"

Ian stood up and started towards the senior profiler.

"David, I think he's telling the truth. We weren't there and what we heard… it could have been anything."

Marshal nodded.

"Yeah, man. He had to play it well. And he did. He's in. We should celebrate."

The glare the oldest agent sent his way shut the man up quickly.

Reid still had things to say though.

"You're still treating me like a child, even though we have an agreement and I've kept to it! You, on the other hand, keep forgetting I'm an FBI agent just like you and I can take care of myself!"

"But drugs?" – Shouted Rossi. – "It's not something to take lightly!"

"Don't you think I know that! Maybe I know it better than you. Better than any of you!"

Dean was instantly wide-eyed.

"Genius Boy, what do you mean with that?"

"It's none of your damn business!"

Simon shook his head in disbelief while Walker observed:

"Your description of the effects of Dilaudid was frighteningly accurate… Is there a reason to it?"

The youngest agent turned to him annoyed.

"If you know it's accurate, then I could ask you the same thing." – Everyone knew he had a point, so nobody said anything more, they just glared at each other collectively for a few instances. – "If that's all, I'm off to bed. I have school tomorrow. Good night."

Reid stormed into his room and shut the door with as much force as he could muster. It was already 1 AM and he was tired as hell. Of course, as hurt as he was about the happenings, he knew sleep wouldn't come to him this night…

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

Rossi sank dejectedly into the armchair and rubbed his eyes tiredly.

"I messed it up, didn't I?" – He asked finally.

The others exchanged a glance before Ian gathered his courage to answer him.

"Yeah… well. Just a bit. You're worried about him, there's nothing wrong with that. But you have to trust him…"

"He's an adult…" – Stated Dean the obvious. – "And not only that, but an agent just like us; he's right about that. Even if the youngest ever…"

"And he did great tonight." – Added Simon carefully. – "He managed to convince the teenagers to trust him and accept him as a member. Now we're on the right track. Hopefully."

"So, I messed it up." – Repeated Rossi, suddenly looking twice his years. – "And now, he hates me."

"No." – Insisted Walker. – "Of course he doesn't hate you. He's just angry."

"Very angry…"

"Very angry, all right, I give you that. But it will be fine. You two will sleep now and then talk it over tomorrow."

"By the way." – Ian pointedly looked at his watch. – "We should be going too. You'll need to be rested for your first lectures tomorrow, David."

"Yeah… And I have one with Spencer's class too… He will skip it just so he wouldn't have to meet me!"

"No, he won't do that."

"How do you know?"

"Because if he does, I'll have him run two miles on Friday during PE. He's used to running as punishment already anyway."

They said goodnight and Rossi locked the door when the five men left. Before heading to bed, he stopped in front of Reid's closed door, uncertain whether he should knock or not. He wanted to talk to the boy, to say he was sorry… But what if he was already asleep? Maybe tomorrow would be better…

Rossi spent the night restlessly tossing and turning. When he finally managed to fall asleep, he woke not half an hour later bathed in sweat and panting heavily, having suffered from a horrible nightmare that included the youngest profiler overdosing on Dilaudid and dying in front of him, while he had been unable to help. He didn't sleep any more that night.


	15. Putting Things Right

**Putting Things Right**

Rossi got up in the morning with the clear determination to have a talk with his new 'son' and tell him how sorry he was for his behavior the night before. He planned to bake pancakes for breakfast for him and talk while they both ate. The boy was too skinny anyways; for God's sake, they had been able to count all his ribs yesterday when he'd been standing without a T-shirt in front of them! This plan shattered as soon as the senior profiler entered the kitchen though, for there, on the counter, written with the messy handwriting of one Doctor Spencer Reid, a message awaited him: 'I went to school early. See you in English Literature. Reid.'

The older agent sighed sadly and resigned himself to eat alone. He wouldn't make pancakes just for himself though… a couple of toasts would do.

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

Reid was sitting not far away from the school on a bench in the park, contemplating his new cell phone. He had been doing it for over five minutes, unable to decide whether he should make the call or not. In the end, he decided it couldn't hurt, and dialed Hotch's number out of memory. The unit chief picked up almost immediately.

 _\- Aaron Hotchner._

\- Hotch, it's Reid…

 _\- Reid! I'm so glad you called! How are you? Is everything all right?_

\- Yeah…

 _\- That wasn't very convincing… What happened?_

\- Nothing.

 _\- Reid! Come on, you can tell me! Why are you sniffling? Do you have a cold? Do I need to go to Collins and demand he give you sick leave? Because I will!_

\- No. It's not necessary, I don't have a cold.

 _\- Then wh- wait a minute… Are you crying?_

\- I'm not crying! I don't cry.

 _\- Reid… Tell me!_

\- I just… I miss Gideon a lot, you know?

 _\- Gideon?_

\- Yeah! Jason Gideon, our previous senior profiler! Don't tell me you've already completely forgotten him!

 _\- Of couse, I haven't. But why do you miss him now? Isn't Dave there for you? Did something happen between the two of you? Should I talk to him? Is he even there? If Collins separated you, I swear, I'll kill him!_

\- No, Hotch. Collins didn't separate us. Maybe it would have been better…

 _\- Tell me everything!_

\- I can't. You tell me about you all. Please. I miss you guys.

 _\- We miss you too. Okay, but don't think we're done with this conversation! All right then. Well, Garcia and Morgan had one of their famous flirtous conversations; you know the kind that makes all of us blush? Well, what they didn't know was that Strauss and the director were listening to their every word. I don't know who was the most horrified of us all but I'd hazard a guess it might have been me. Now we'll all have to attend ten hours of workplace sexual harassment prevention training. You too, by the way. We'll wait for you to return so that you can enjoy it with us. Oh, and JJ and Prentiss-_

Reid chuckled as he listened to his friends – family's – antics in their absence and wasn't even angry when he learnt that JJ and Emily had tried to recreate one of his physics experiments but had only succeeded in setting his desk on fire. Hotch had promised he'd get a new one by the time he'd be back, so he wasn't very worried about it at all.

After their conversation, the young genius felt somewhat better and ready for another day playing a teenager at school. He grabbed his school bag and made his way towards the main entrance of the building where his first class would be World History.

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English Literature was the fourth period that day. Right after the beginning of the class, the principal entered, closely followed by Rossi. Their teacher respectfully offered his seat for the principal to take and he himself stood by the window, letting the newcomers take charge for once. Normally, they'd have continued with studying Hamlet and talk about the characters individually, but now-

"Students, our special guest today is David Rossi, the famous FBI agent and writer. Please, welcome him and show him your best side while he tells you about his work and his books. In the end, you'll be permitted to ask questions."

"Hello everyone, thank you for the invitation. Your principal has asked me to talk about the work FBI agents do daily, especially the BAU and about the books I wrote. So, first I'd like to ask if anyone knows what 'profiling' means? No? Well, it's-"

Rossi's lesson was very interesting and he quickly became some kind of hero for Reid's classmates, which didn't improve the young man's mood at all.

'And here I have to pretend to be sixteen years old again while Rossi gets to be the superman! and Dean the 'cute one'. The world is so unfair! Pff!'

After the brief introduction about the work they do, the senior profiler continued with talking about the main topic in a Literature lesson: his books. He told them how much writing meant to him and how he loved putting his thoughts on paper and also that being famous was nothing compared to the happiness he felt every time someone actually learnt something from his works.

'Yeah, of course. You're a great liar, Rossi. I'll never forget how much you hated it when I quoted anything from your books. Or is is just me you can't put up with…?'

Somewhere deep down, Reid knew he was being very unfair with the man: his older colleague had gone out of his way to make him feel comfortable when they'd been at the boot camp and to help him cope with the more demanding parts of the training. Once they had arrived here, he had been nothing but supportive of his admittedly sometimes childish behavior and even when he had brought Sydney home, the man had done his best to be the father everyone wished for. And yet, their argument yesterday had shown that the man was still incapable of seeing him as an equal, and regarded him as a child to be protected (and tolerated…) instead. That was something Reid wouldn't accept from anyone; not after the childhood he'd had. Did Rossi even have an idea he had to be the grown up at only four-years-old already? If he weren't able to take care of himself, he'd be long dead, for God's sake! He didn't need someone to treat him like a helpless child at 21 years of age when he'd never before had that! Although, he had to admit at least to himself, it _did_ feel good to be cared for sometimes…

Just thinking about these conflicting feelings made his head hurt. With Gideon, everything had been so much easier: he had known the man loved him the way he loved his own son but he had also seen that he'd been fully accepted as a colleague. Gideon had helped him come to his full potential and he had even supported him in making his own decisions. For example when he had expressed the wish to walk into that train himself to perform his 'magic'; everyone had instantly said 'no' – everyone except for Gideon. The then senior profiler of the BAU had been the only one who had seriously thought about his idea and had, in the end, consented to it, even though Reid knew very well he had been scared out of his mind.

The trust the older man had placed in him back then was something he missed very much now that he had lost it. All his teammates were so overprotective of him as if they couldn't see that somewhere along the way, he had grown up to the job and become a skilled agent just like them. Yes: he _was_ good at his profession!

And still, the caring and worrying Rossi had offered was something completely new for him and it felt so good to be allowed to depend on someone else for the first time ever in his life… And now he'd come full circle again: the same dilemma. What the hell did he really want? He didn't know…

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

The invitation to the cult's next meeting came right after Rossi had apologetically said goodbye to the eagerly chatting students and – after promising to be available for them any time – had left the classroom with the principal in tow. (She really did look like an overeager puppy following its master everywhere…) Their teacher quickly assigned them some homework to make up for lost time; not caring about all the groans he got in exchange; before they were allowed to leave. Upon exiting through the door behind two madly giggling girls ('He's incredible! I hope my husband will be an agent too! It's so _cool_!'), Reid bumped into a slightly smaller but chubby boy who was passing on the corridor.

"Oh, I'm sorry…" – He began but immediately realized the collision hadn't been accidental on the other young man's part when a piece of paper suddenly slid into his hand.

"Next time, pay more attention to where you're going, Beanstalk!" – Mocked the boy irritated, and then he was gone, leaving the youngest profiler to continue his way towards the lockers to switch his battered copy of Shakespeare's Hamlet for his Spanish worbook.

While walking, he carefully unfolded the paper and – after having checked that nobody was paying any attention to him – read the contents:

 _DRAMA CLUB_

 _NEXT REHEARSAL: FRIDAY 5 PM_

 _FOR LOCATION AND OTHER INFORMATION, PLEASE CONSULT YOUR APPOINTED MENTOR (ROBERT CAIN)_

Great. He even had a 'mentor' now… Well, at least it was Robbie and not some stranger.

He was wrestling with his locker when he heard a light chuckle behind him and whipped around to find…

"Sydney! God, you gave me a heart attack."

"Sorry about that. Still troubles with that lock?" – He asked, motioning towards the key in Reid's hand.

"Yeah… well. I manage it 3 times out of 10 now and I think I'm getting better every day. Soon, I'll have books for half of my classes." – He said proudly and sheepishly placed the key in the girl's waiting palm. She opened the locker instantly. – "You could only do it because I tired it out already. It was about to admit defeat anyway."

"Yes, my brave dragonslayer, you did a wonderful job. Would you like to do something on Friday?"

"Friday…?"

"Yeah, well. You know, I'll have that dreaded test tomorrow and then I thought we could go out and have ice cream or a cake or something and I'll be able to tell you how I did… Only if you want to come, of course!"

"I'd like to, very much! It's just that Friday is not the best… I'll have… ahm… Drama Club on Friday. How abou-"

"Drama Club? Please, don't tell me you're in that too!"

Reid looked at her stunned, momentarily forgetting about his search for the Spanish notebook.

"Ahm, what do you mean? It will be my first time there. I just thought it might be interesting to do something else for a change. Are you in it too?" – Please, don't be! – he pleaded silently.

"Oh, NO! Never! And I don't think you should either."

"Why not?"

"Because…" – She trailed off and the young agent looked at her expectantly, willing her to continue.

"Yes?" – He insisted.

"It's just queer, you know? One of my best friends, Rebecca, has started going to these meetings at the beginning of this school year and she's been completely changed ever since. She won't even talk to me anymore; she's always with her new friends from the club. She only wears black and does strange things with her hair…"

"This won't ever happen to me, I promise. You'll always be the only one who can open my locker." – He joked, trying to ease the tension.

But she shook her head.

"I'm not sure it's possible. Everyone who joined the drama club has changed drastically. It's like it's some kind of… Never mind."

"Some kind of what? Sydney."

"I don't know, it's just weird. They don't even have performances, so what do they do then? And why isn't it open for everyone? Where do they meet? Because certainly not here in the school; I checked."

Reid regarded the girl, trying to come to a decision. Having finally reached the conclusion that there was nothing to lose, he looked around to make sure they were alone before saying:

"Listen, Sydney… I know you'll be busy today, studying for your test tomorrow, but just a few minutes ago I was about to suggest you come to visit me on Saturday. What do you say? We could talk about this some more in privacy. I'm interested in what you think about this all because I… khm… I think I'd like to become an actor, and it's important that I know what I'm getting myself into. If you say it's not good, I might reconsider it. Our friendship is more important to me anyway." – He finished, looking at her expectantly.

"You would? Really?"

"Of course. So: Saturday?"

"You bet."

"Great! I'll pick you up at 10 then? I believe I can get dad to cook something for us again."

"That would be fantastic! Of course, only if it's no trouble for him, I mean." – She was adorable when she blushed, the youngest profiler realized.

"No, no. Don't worry. Actually, I think _not_ feeding someone for a day would cause him more distress."

As it was time to get to the next class, Reid quickly chose his things and locked up his other belongings before they parted ways at the bottom of the staircase.

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

When Reid got home in the afternoon, Rossi was sitting on the couch in the living room, reading a book. The young genius tiptoed next to him and stood there, waiting to be acknowledged or for something to happen. He knew what he wanted to say but it wasn't as easy as he had hoped it would be.

"Khm…" – He began. – "Ahm… Rossi?"

"Yes, Kiddo?" – Asked the man, without looking up from the book.

Now or never…

"I… have… khm… well. I invited Sydney for Saturday!" – He blurted out very quickly.

It wasn't what he had wanted to say at all…

"That's fine. She's always welcome."

"Thanks… So. Ahm… I… have… I mean… had… I… Would you mind cooking something? She adored your food." – This, again, wasn't what he had wanted to get off his chest!

"Sure. What should it be?"

"Anything Italian… I think she suspects something about that cult. She told me today, I shouldn't join the 'drama club' because people who do soon become weird."

Rossi finally put down the book and looked up at his younger colleague.

"Hm… Yeah, that sounds promising."

Reid sat down carefully, facing the senior profiler, fidgeting in his seat nervously.

"I liked your lecture. It was really insightful."

"Thank you."

"I… khm… We're making progress, aren't we? With the case, I mean."

Rossi looked at him funnily. Or was he only imagining it?

"Yes, I guess we are. With a bit of luck, we'll finish it soon and then we can head back to Quantico."

"Do you miss home?"

"Do you?" – Touché… They sat without speaking for a few seconds, and the young genius swore he could hear the clock ticking in the kitchen. In the end, it was Rossi who broke the silence. – "You called Hotch today." – This wasn't a question, so Reid only nodded to show he was listening. – "You told him you were missing them."

Again, it was more a statement than anything else, so there was no reason trying to deny it.

"Yes. I do miss them. They're family."

"And Jason too…" – Continued the older man, watching him strangely.

Reid hung his head in shame, though he had no idea why exactly he should be ashamed for missing the only person who had ever been like a father to him.

"Yes, I do." – He admitted. – "Sometimes I forget he's not here anymore to turn to when I'd like to talk to him."

"Like right now?" – Rossi guessed.

"Yes. Like right now. Or yesterday…"

"Because you feel like you can't come to _me_." – For the umpteenth time: no question.

This time, however, the statement wasn't true in any way and Reid gladly corrected it.

"It's not like that. It's just that the question would have been about you. Whether you'd be more interested in what I have to say than _he_ ever was."

"I can answer you that: I am interested in anything you want to tell me. I'm listening, Kiddo."

The genius took a deep breath. It _was_ now or never.

"You remember that, at the camp, you told me I could talk to you about what happened in Georgia?" – Rossi nodded that yes, he did remember. – "Well. I guess it's time to tell you."

"I'd feel honored if you did."

Now the man was giving him his full attention, something Reid had wished Gideon would do but hadn't. He took a deep breath.

"Tobias – the man who kidnapped me – had dissociative identity disorder. Two of his personalities kept taking turns kicking me, hitting me, taunting me… but the worst was… the drugs." – He closed his eyes to prevent tears from falling. – "Tobias, the 'original one' wanted to help me in his own way I guess… he always drugged me with Dilaudid when he was in charge, so that I wouldn't suffer so much while the others tortured me. At least, that's what he said. It went on for three whole days. And then some hours. I couldn't even keep exact tabs, can you imagine that? I always know exactky how long something takes! But there… I was so very much out of it most of the time… Either from pain or from drugs… Anyway, I got away in the end, so you'd think I had my 'happily ever after'…"

"But it wasn't so simple, was it?" – The senior profiler prompted gently. – "In my experience, nothing ever is."

Reid shook his head.

"No. It wasn't simple at all. They took me to the hospital, they patched me up. Physically, that is. They said my heart might be a bit weaker after having died then brutally brought back and all but it isn't a problem; well, at least I don't think it is. Hotch wanted to force me to counseling but I didn't want to go and Gideon backed me up."

Rossi was stunned.

"Why would he do that? You'd have needed it!"

"Well… Counseling and I… we don't mix well. It's an old story but it doesn't really matter either. Anyway, I didn't talk to any professionals about it, and I'm glad for that. But I never thought I wouldn't be able to talk to anyone else either."

"Anyone like… Jason?"

Reid nodded.

"I wanted to tell him, honestly! Whenever I held the stolen phials in my shaking hands… I wanted to go to him for help. But I felt he didn't want to know. He couldn't deal with what had happened and I couldn't bear to place more guilt upon him, so… I didn't. And I was standing there, equipped with the drug I'd taken off Tobias after he'd died and the syringes I'd stolen from the hospital…" – It hadn't been easy to admit to these sins but now that they were finally out, he couldn't stop confessing. – "The cravings were so _horrible_! If you thought you couldn't get hooked within only three days then you were sadly mistaken, Rossi. I tried telling myself it was all in my head and that I can beat it alone. I was fighting so hard! I mean, I'm a chemist, I know how this works!"

"But knowing something is one thing. What you _feel_ matters too." – Said the man wisely, showing more understanding than Reid had ever hoped for. – "So, you continued taking the drugs?" – He guessed, and his voice didn't indicate any condemnation or even pity.

"Hell, no! God only knows how I did it, but I swear: I resisted. But it caused me to act out. I was the worst with Emily and I don't even know why. I don't have anything against her but… she was the newest, I guess. But I didn't spare the others either. Not even the local police, UnSubs or even relatives of victims. I was a person I never want to be again."

"Quite understandable under the circumstances."

"No, it's not. Anyway, all the while I wished for someone to talk to. Preferably Gideon. I tried everything short of actually _asking_ for help, because I didn't know how to; I've never been good at that. And then things got so bad, I deliberately missed the jet one day."

Rossi gaped.

"And they still didn't do anything?"

"No. Not really. Gideon came to see me and give me a talking to, and I finally admitted I was struggling. I didn't tell him with what though; I figured, he, the master of profilers, should have already noticed it. And he probably had. But he only said something about how anyone would be suffering in my situation and how I had to figure out for myself what I wanted and what was important."

"You're kidding! Right? Please, tell me this wasn't all he said!"

"Yep. This was all. I promised never to miss the plane again and decided then and there I couldn't count on my friends and family for help, so I was determined to do it alone; just like everything else in my life before I joined the FBI. My problems were never mentioned again, and not long after that, Gideon left. The rest, you already know."

"And how are you now, Kiddo? Because I'm here and I wouldn't let you struggle like that."

Reid smiled.

"Now I'm well enough not to be worried about an offer of weed, Rossi. I didn't even take the Dilaudid when I was suffering and had it right there. I need you to understand: yes, I look like a child and I might even act like one sometimes… I have some strange habits like only wearing mismatching socks and things like that… But even when I _was_ a child, I was always alone. I dealt with money matters, I took care of my mother, I fooled CPS and I finished schools in record time, despite all the bullying and teasings I had to endure… I'm not as helpless as you'd think."

"I know that. But isn't it better not to be alone?" – Asked the senior profiler and it made the genius think.

"I wouldn't know." – He answered finally. – "I thought I had people at the BAU but it turned out to be just an illusion." – He sighed. – "But it's okay. I'm an adult, I can deal with anything on my own."

"No, Kiddo. You can, that's true but you don't have to. I will show you otherwise. I promise."

"I'm sorry for yesterday, Rossi." – Shook his head the younger man. – "I shouldn't have reacted the way I did to your concern. I'm actually very grateful that you care, even if I don't know how to express it. It's all new."

"No: I'm sorry. It's one thing to worry; this will never change; but I need to moderate myself and not take off your head every time I work myself into hyperventilation over nothing." – The boy chuckled at that. – "Yeah, okay. You can laugh all you want. You don't know what it's like sitting here and knowing someone else is out there doing the job alone. But you did great. I'm proud of you."

"Thanks. Just for the record: I don't think you're not doing anything. Just knowing you guys are nearby to help if needed, means a lot. So, do you think this 'drama club' will be what we're looking for?"

"Yes, I believe so. And I'll try to gauge which teacher could it be. I was invited back for another week of lecturing, so I'll have the opportunity."

"Great. But… you know what?"

"What?"

"I don't think we'll have to hurry too much. It's not so bad here, playing family and 'normal', is it?"

Rossi laughed and hugged the surprised youngster tightly.

"No, Kiddo. It's certainly not bad. Not bad at all."

"So. Tell me about Mrs. Rossi number 4."

"WHAT!?"

"Oh, come on! Everyone can see she's madly in love with you! The girls couldn't stop planning your wedding! They even said your kids would be very cute and incredibly clever."

"Oh. My. God."


	16. The First Meeting

**The First Meeting**

"Are you sure you can drive?" – Asked Reid, gripping the seat of the battered old car in ill-concealed fear as Robbie drove madly towards their secret meeting point.

It was already half past four in the afternoon on this cloudy Friday and, apparently, they were running late.

"I'm over 17." – Was the other boy's only answer as he nearly knocked a biker off his vehicle when passing next to him. The genius could just see the man's angry glare in the rearway mirror before they left him too far behind to make out anymore.

"That's not what I asked… Do you know _how_ to drive?" – He pressed, checking to make sure his seatbelt was securely fastened.

"Well… I don't have a license because my parents said I was too dumb to learn." – The teenager shrugged, seemingly not particularly bothered about this serious breach of law.

"I guess you could learn…" – They took a dangerous turn to the left during which the car came very close to falling off the road. – "That there was a stop sign." – Pointed out the youngest profiler, reffering to the junction they had just left behind in lightning speed.

The driver turned around to look back, momentarily forgetting to watch what was in front of them. Reid could feel cold sweat rolling down his forehead.

"You're right. I didn't see it… Do you think I should stop now then?"

"God forbid!"

"Okay." – He turned back just in time to bypass a nasty pothole.

"But you could maybe slow down to the speed limit… Just an idea."

"This road is frighteningly pathetic." – Robbie complained when he didn't manage to do so with the second one and drove the car right into it instead.

The genius was positively green by now.

"Something certainly _is_ frightening." – He agreed. – "Hey, what do you say to your parents about where you go every Monday and Friday evening?"

"I say I have to take remedial lessons. They eagerly believe it." – The boy sighed sadly.

Again, Reid couldn't believe how cruel and clueless this boy's parents could be. He also couldn't believe he had agreed to get into the car with him when Robbie had arrived to pick him up. 'Surprise', he had said. Well, it was a surprise indeed…

"Look out! Weasel!" – And in fact: the small animal ran out in front of the car right at that moment.

Robbie hit the brake pedal with all his might to avoid collision with the furry mammal and Reid bumped his head painfully in the dashboard as he flew forward.

"Sorry… You all right?"

"Yeah… Ouch."

"The weasel is fine too."

"I'm incredibly glad to hear that." – His voice was laced with sarcasm. – "I don't understand: the seatbelt should have protected me from that." – Mumbled the genius, checking his hairline for blood. Thankfully, he didn't find any.

Robbie shrugged and drove on.

"It doesn't work. Hasn't for ages." – He explained simply.

"That's reassuring to know. Don't you want me to drive?"

"You're only 16."

"What does it matter when you're only 17 yourself and don't have a license at all? It's illegal either way."

"Still." – Reid sighed, giving up the argument. They drove in silence for a few minutes before they abruptly stopped again. This time the genius was more prepared and caught himself just in time to prevent another incident like before. – "I'll have to blindfold you." – Stated Robbie.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I'm sorry but I was instructed not to let you see where we're going. It's a secret."

"Robbie… We've been driving towards northeast for over twenty minutes and we've been on this unpaved bumpy road for five of that. We must be nearly there so I have a good reason to believe we're getting pretty near to our destination. There's only the abandoned warehouse at the end of this dreary street that used to be the old cannery and has been empty for over a decade. I'd be stupid not to realize where we're headed."

The other boy blinked for a moment confusedly.

"Oh. You know where we are?"

"Yep."

"Damn. I'll get in trouble for that with the Leader… I was specifically instructed not to let you know!"

"Well. Technically, _you_ didn't let me know." – The boy didn't seem reassured at all. – "Look, I won't tell him if you won't either." – Said Reid seemingly nonchalantly, but in reality watching his friend with withheld breath.

"Of course you won't tell him. You're not going to talk to him."

"Oh." – So, it was indeed a 'him'. The genius hoped Rossi and the others on the other side were copying all the information he was carefully feeding them. – "I guess it's all right then."

When they finally arrived, Reid couldn't have been happier to get out of the car. In fact, he'd never been so happy to arrive anywhere, not even when Hotch had been so furious about his divorce that he had seemed intent on trying to kill both of them with his erratic driving.

The genius stood on wobbly legs and stared at the enormous hangar in front of him.

"Robbie, how does everyone get here for the meetings? Hailing dozens of cabs could be a bit suspicious to a place like that…"

"Oh, no! Calling a taxi or any kind of lift is strictly forbidden! This is one of the many rules of the club. This place is strictly confidential."

"So there are rules?"

"Of course! And you'll have to learn them all to become a member."

"Okay, so: how can one get here then? I can't see any other cars parked anywhere nearby." – Which was probably a good thing, considering that Robbie had left his in the middle of the road, effectively blocking everyone else's way.

"By The Leader's Bus, of course!"

"Sorry?"

"The Leader's Bus! Everyone just goes to the meeting point – that's by the entrance to the Olbrich Botanical Gardens by the way – and the bus picks us all up and transports us here. Then back there. It's so easy!" – He even clapped his hands to demonstrate it was really nothing.

Reid blinked.

"And nobody finds it suspicious that a group of teenagers gather by the gardens twice a week but never goes inside?"

Robbie shrugged.

"Apparently not."

"Interesting. And why didn't we take the bus then just like the others?" – He inquired, thinking how it would have spared him a few heart attacks and a throbbing forehead at least.

"Because you're not supposed to know where we are… Oh… Never mind. Come on, let's go, I don't want us to be late!"

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

When they entered the cold and semi-dark building, Robbie reached into a box that was positioned near the entrance and pulled out two dark-brown pieces of clothing, handing one of them to Reid.

"Put that on. We all have to wear this over our own clothes when we have a meeting." – He explained unnecessarily, since the genius could see all the others already dressing or having the robe on. – "This shows that we're all equals here."

The youngest profiler eyed the thing with disdain, trying not to think about how many germs could be hiding away in it just waiting to attack him, what with all the people apparently just picking one randomly whenever they come here. What if this particular piece had last time been worn by someone with lice!? And if so, could they have survived since Monday until now? He closed his eyes and ever so slowly slung the cloak over his shoulders, maneuvering his arms into the holes.

"I feel like a Jedi." – He groaned, doing his best to ignore the funny smell originating from the rough and faded material. 'Something's rotten here.' – He thought.

"The hood too." – Warned him his friend.

"Oh. A Sith then…" – Now he felt totally idiotic and was thinking about writing a nice friendly letter to Collins, requestion a sick leave just like Hotch had suggested and telling the man he could go and find someone else for the job because he surely wouldn't do it anymore.

But before he could come up with a suitable excuse to get out and away for good, he found himself pushed rather rudely into another, much larger room: this was clearly where they were to have their 'session'.

The attendants (thanks to the ridiculous clothing Reid couldn't identify any of them) were standing in a semicircle, facing a door at the far end of the room.

"What are they all waiting for?" – He whispered to Robbie. Or to the person standing next to him he hoped was still Robbie… It was hard to tell.

"Shhh!" – Oh, yes. It was indeed his friend… - "We're not allowed to talk anymore! The Leader will be here soon! Stand still and listen. That's all you have to do."

"Okay…"

"That will be your place, the farthest from The Leader, because you're new. I'm standing there, in the front, because I'm part of the Inner Circle."

"Yes, I remember you guys telling me about it. And that I will never belong there." – Reid tried to sound sorry about that fact but didn't quite manage. He felt as if he had a dozen or so spiders running up and down his back and wondered if the cloak might be full of cobwebs. He wanted to scream.

"Meet you after the meeting outside. Don't remove your robe until you'll exit this room and don't try to talk to anyone. You're here merely to observe; you're not allowed to participate in anything until you'll take the oath the next time you come."

"All right, all right."

And just then, Robbie was gone, leaving behind the silently suffering Reid to fight the urge to scratch his back and arms. He contemplated asking for a raise after that assignment for all his troubles. Or hazard pay. Preferably both. He sniffled his cloak again. Grrr… _Definitely_ both.

A tapping sound penetrated the young genius' preoccupied mind and steered his attention towards the center of the 'stage'. There stood The Leader himself, in all his glory, wearing a robe similar to theirs, though his was, of course, much more richly decorated and made of a better material. ('And it surely isn't this foul smelling either.' – Thought Reid bitterly.) Apparently, the mighty boss-man was more 'equal' than everyone else…

One big problem with this attire was – among several others Reid could go on listing for at least an hour – that this way, he really couldn't make out who this man could be. Not even how he was built or anything that could help them identify him. He seemed very tall, that was the only thing he could tell, but even that was up for debate for he might have some funny shoes on… Who knew with these people? Sadly, his face was entirely hidden in the shadows cast by the enormous hood.

"My faithful Followers… welcome to another session!" – The man's voice sounded very scratchy and positively machine-like. He obviously used some device to make his speech unrecognizable. Damn. Nothing could be easy for them!? – "I'm especially happy to welcome a new member who is about to join us. Please, clap to encourage our newest friend."

Everyone clapped enthusiastically and Reid felt his face heat up. For the first time since he had stepped in, he became grateful for the hideous cloth hiding him from curious eyes. One thing was sure: nobody had ever welcomed him with such eagerness anywhere. It was creepy to think he'd had to join a cult to find people genuinely glad to have him; even at the BAU, he'd had to battle the preconceptions of the others to be fully accepted into their mids. Preconceptions, that had gone along the line 'the kid that bought his way in', or 'Gideon's little puppy'. It had taken him good two months to make everyone see him for who he really was instead of what they had expected him to be.

Admittedly, Morgan had been the most difficult to befriend. The older man had been full of mistrust towards the too young, too skinny, too smart, too eccentric, too… _everything_ agent. Morgan was – and had been especially back then – more traditional than the rest of the team and had pictured a more conservative group, consisting mainly of soldier-like agents just like the Organized Crime Unit.

Garcia, always the chirpy, bubbly one, had greeted him with open arms of course, and had christened him 'Baby Boy' on her very first day with them. This title had stuck with him since then; even now, he hadn't been able to get rid off it completely yet. Not that he had tried very hard to tell the truth. It probably also helped that Penelope came a couple of weeks later than him, so he wasn't the newbie in her eyes.

The same with Elle and then Emily: they had both joined after him, so they hadn't had the opportunity to tease him much with being new; though they had made up for it with teasing him about his age and 'innocence', as they called it. He didn't have an idea what they meant by that…

JJ had been… wary of him at first. Don't get him wrong: she had been nice. Too nice to be precise. Like you'd be with a stranger you're not too sure about. It had taken her about three weeks to even call him 'Spencer' then another four to shorten it to 'Spence' instead of yelling 'Doctor Reid' whenever she needed something from him. It had been weird.

Hotch and Gideon had been his mentors, even at the Academy. He had known he could always count on them and that hadn't changed when he had joined their team. He had been groomed specifically to become a profiler and it had suited them just fine; they had been – and in Hotch's case he still was – more than happy to overlook any of his shortcomings as an agent (like not being able to shoot straight… khm…), as long as they could use his brain and his other unique talents.

Now, with many agents dead, Elle and Gideon gone, and Rossi having joined, he felt like it was time for him to grow up too and take a more active part in the field assignments as well. The team – the _family_ – needed him. He'd do his best to show them he was capable of holding his own and do more than just blurt out facts like a walking-talking encyclopedia!

Reid realized with a start that while he had been occupied with the memories of his first months at the BAU, the man at the center of the stage had continued his lecture.

"… and so it's even more important now than ever before that we all keep our secrets and maintain our traditions. The Evil must be conquered! The Bad is all around us; even family isn't to be trusted! Only we, who can see the Truth, _we_ know what's coming and only _we_ understand the real danger! We will have the eternal life when the time will come! And it's nearing!" – Reid glanced carefully around and saw several heads nodding in agreement. He heard the people around him murmur 'yes' and 'amen'. He wished he could see their expressions too, to determine how brainwashed they already were… - "My Followers! I ask you to raise your cups towards the sky, say the prayer together for our gods to hear, and then drink the nectar of life!"

Suddenly, a half-full paper cup appeared in front of him, held by the person standing beside him.

"Thanks." – He muttered, taking the offered drink. Looking around, he saw that everyone had their cup by now and were again standing still, holding it high up towards the ceiling. He copied them, thinking how ridiculous they must have looked to an outside observer.

" _We swear to keep our Knowledge safe and share it only with those who are worthy. We swear to abide by the rules of gods and our Leader. We offer to sacrifice our lives for the Truth and we're preparing ourselves to see the Light. Amen."_

The chanting died and the people around him drank. Reid sniffled the somewhat thick, pinkish liquid and nearly gagged. 'What the hell is that!?' – He thought, desperately trying to think of a way to get out of having to taste this horrible thing. Luckily, nobody was paying any attention to him, as they all seemed to be in some kind of trance. He quickly poured the unidentifiable solution into a crack on the ground. 'Yuck.' The chemist in him screamed for a chance to examine this curious substance under a microscope while the queasy part of him only wanted to wash his hands as soon as possible.

"Thank you, my fellow Believers. Today, I want to share a story with you. A story about a man who didn't know of the dangers and made the mistake to trust his so called friends. He was…" – Reid was subjected to a long and very unlikely story with the important 'moral' in the end: never to trust anyone but The Leader and the mysterious gods. The genius wondered whether Rossi and the members of the Organized Crime Unit had fallen asleep somewhere during the half of it just like he had. He wished he had a watch, since he was certain he couldn't check the time on his cell without someone noticing he wasn't as eagerly paying attention as the rest. Again, the hood had its advantages: at least, with it on, no one could see him yawning from time to time.

Finally, around an hour later (though Reid felt like it had been at least three…) the man called an end to the meeting and – after a theatrical bow – exited through the back door he had used before, his departure aided by the excited clap of his 'followers'. When the door closed behind him, the semicircle started to divide as people made their way out into the corridor to shred their cloaks and – presumably – find the bus that would take them back to the botanical gardens.

The youngest profiler was so happy to finally be rid of the loathsome clothing, he didn't notice someone poking his shoulder at first. When he did notice though, he turned questioningly to the person daring to bother him again so soon after the suffering he'd had to endure.

"Yes?" – He gritted his teeth. He spotted Rebecca, motioning towards a small plastic money box.

"Membership fee." – She said pointedly.

"Huh?"

"The dues! Two bucks per meeting! Everyone has to pay it, Spencer!"

"Oh! I wasn't told about that… I didn't bring any money, sorry." – He shrugged. – "I don't suppose I could transfer the amount to the club's account online, hmm?"

"Don't be ridiculous!"

"It's okay, I got it." – Said Robbie, having just arrived in time to hear the end of his friend's comment. – "Here, Becca. Four pounds. Come on, Spencer."

He grabbed the genius' arm and they left the building together.

"Thanks. I didn't know to bring any money."

"It's fine."

"I'll pay it back to you on Monday." – He promised but the other boy just waved it off.

"Nah, leave it. It's my dad's money anyway."

"And what does The Leader do with that sum? It's 16 bucks per person a month. And there were 31 of us here today"

"Actually, with you now, there are 32 members. A girl got sick a few days ago, so she couldn't come today."

"512 dollars a month then. That's a lot."

"I'm sure he knows what he needs it for." – Shrugged Robbie, not looking interested at all.

"Oh, yeah. I have no doubt about that." – Mumbled Reid sarcastically. – "And what was that drink we got?"

That awakened his friend's excitement.

"It's the nectar of life! Isn't it great!?"

"Ahm… well… 'great' is not exactly the expression I'd have used… khm… But _what_ is it? Do you know?"

"No. Nobody does, and it's not permitted to ask questions. But it makes me feel so _free_ and _happy_ when I drink it!" – He giggled. – "Almost like I can fly!" – He demonstrated it by spreading his arms and hopping on one leg, precariously balancing and making swimming motions in the darkness of the night.

"Ahm…"

"Can you feel it too, Spencer? Can you?"

Reid could see that others were in a similar state. What was going on? He'd have to somehow smuggle out a portion of that drink; they needed to examine it for drugs.

"Listen, Robbie. I think, maybe we should take the bus back…?"

"Oh, no. I can't leave the car here! If my father notices it missing tomorrow, he'll kill me!"

"But you said it wasn't even his! You said it's for you to learn on later. Why would he check?"

"I dunno. Ah, where's the key…?" – He had dropped the key and was now clumsily looking for it in the dirt on all fours, using his cell phone to make some light.

Reid sighed.

"All right. But then I'm driving."

"What? No!"

"Yes, I am! You're too out of it, I won't have you kill both of us!" – With that, he snatched up the key (Robbie had been looking at absolutely the wrong place for it), and held it firmly in his closed fist. – "Either you let me, or we'll both stay here 'till tomorrow. You're choice."

The boy pouted before relenting.

"All right. Pfff."

By the time Reid had managed to get the other young man – who was by now singing the oath they had chanted before at the top of his lungs –, the driver of the bus was about to get out and skin them alive for blocking the way. The young profiler had to maneuver the rundown car around the huge vehicle to be able to leave and let it enter the premises to pick up the other groggily staggering teenagers.

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"We're here. Robbie. We have arrived to your house. Robbie?" – Reid turned to the passenger side to find his friend in a deep sleep, slumped against the window. The young profiler sighed. – "Robbie… ROBBIE!"

"Oh! What? What happened?"

"We're at your house. You need to tell me where to park the car and then you'll go inside and catch some sleep, all right?"

"Yeah… okay… And what about you? I should take you home."

"NO! Ahm… It's fine. I'll take the bus."

"You don't have any money." – Reminded him his friend. Incredible that, even drugged out of his mind, he could still remember that little detail.

"It's fine. I got a season ticket. So: where to with the car?"

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When he had gotten Robbie into the house (he had even made sure the boy had managed to lock the door after entering), Reid made his way home, resigning himself to a long walk because – contrary to what he had told his friend – he didn't have any kind of ticket or money to use for bus.

Suddenly, a dark blue car slowed down beside him before stopping altogether. The driver reached over and lazily opened the passenger side door for him.

"Need a lift?"

Reid smiled.

"Walker! You're the best; thanks." – He slid in the car and groaned appreciatively at the warmth that met him there. – "Oh, this is so good. I was frozen half to death!"

The agent chuckled.

"I bet you were. But at least you got back safely. I take it you didn't drink that liquid?"

"Of course not, I'm not stupid." – He shook his head. – "Do you hear it, Rossi? You won't need to kill me when I get home! I'm fine!" – He spoke, knowing the older profiler was still listening.

Walker laughed again.

"Calm down, Genius Boy! Nobody will want to kill you. You did great! Spencer? Earth to Doctor Reid? Hmm… I guess I'm not an interesting enough company then."

The man smiled and turned the heating a bit higher, letting the exhausted boy sleep peacefully until they'd get to the apartment.


	17. Seers of Light

**Seers of Light**

"Mom, Dad: this is Spencer. Spencer: these are my parents." – Began Sydney with the introductions when the genius arrived at her house to pick her up on Saturday. – "And this is my little brother, Donny."

Her father was the first to shake his hand.

"Pleasure, Mr. Evans."

"Oh, the pleasure is ours, young man. Please, call me Liam." – Mr. Evans, ahm… Liam, was a tall and friendly-looking man in his late forties.

"And I'm Barbara. Nice to meet you." – Sydney's mother was as beautiful as her daughter, it was easy to see how she had turned out to be the way she was; she had a really likeable family.

Even her little brother, Donny, was cute.

"Hi, Donny. I'm Spencer, your sister's new schoolmate." – He explained to the shy ten-year-old, shaking his hand. Being treated like an adult seemed to encourage the youngster a bit.

"Will you marry Sydney?"

"Ahm…"

The girl turned scarlet – for once, it wasn't him blushing, thought Reid with an inner smirk – while the parents laughed.

"What!? Then I could have her room! It's waaaaaay bigger than mine!" – He opened his arms wide to demonstrate the considerable size-difference between the two rooms.

Reid pretended thinking about it.

"Hmm… Quite understandable then… You know what, Donny? If we decide to marry, I promise you, you'll be the first to know, all right?" – He mock-whispered with a wink before saying goodbye to the chuckling Evans parents and making their way towards the 'Rossi residence'.

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It was nearly eleven the when Reid and Sydney arrived at the apartment to find Rossi in the process of cooking enough food to feed a small army. While the genius knew it was actually close to the truth with five hungry grown men a floor above them waiting eagerly for the food as well, he still thought his colleague might have gone a bit overboard with the amount he was making.

Apparently, Sydney – who had no idea they were feeding the members of the Organized Crime Unit too – didn't agree with him.

"These smell exceptionally good, Mr. Rossi… ahm… Dave. What are you making?"

"This, young lady, is my great-grandfather's speciality: roasted tomato basil soup. The second course will be extra cheesy lasagna. As a dessert, you'll get my grandmother Fiona's very own tiramisu." – He listed proudly, presenting the ingredients for them to see.

"And if we'll still be hungry after eating all that?" – Asked the genius just a tiny bit teasingly but Rossi didn't appear to understand sarcasm as he answered rather seriously.

"Then you can try my favorite stracciatella ice cream." – He nodded towards the fridge.

The youngest profiler shook his head fondly.

"I give up."

Sydney playfully punched his arm.

"Oh, don't be such a grinch, Spencer! Dave, I can't wait to taste all of these delicious courses!"

"I'll be done in an hour. You two just go and talk or study or… whatever it is you do… ("Dad!" – Reid shouted mortified while the girl only laughed, clearly enjoying the banter and that, this time, it wasn't her little brother making them uncomfortable), and I'll call you when it's time to eat."

"Great." – Mumbled the genius; his face as red as Rossi's half-cooked tomato soup. – "Come on, Sydney, let's go into my room. To _talk_."

He didn't miss the wink the senior profiler sent his way and it took all his strength to surpress a groan. He'd get back at the man later.

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"So: how did your test go?" – He asked as soon as they had closed the door.

"It went great! I got an A!"

"Wow. Congratulations, Sydney! That's fantastic! I knew you could do it!"

"It's only thanks to you, Spencer. You're the best teacher ever. Do you think we could continue so that I'll really learn to talk freely as you said I would?"

"Of course." – He sat on the swivel chair while the girl was perched on his bed. – "Ahm… You promised to tell me your impressions of the drama club…" – He reminded her gently.

"Oh, yes! But you were there yesterday, right? What was it like?"

"Well… I still haven't decided…" – The night before, he had only woken long enough to walk up from the car to the apartment and painfully yank the wires off his body, before he had fallen back asleep again. When he had woken this morning, it had already been time to go to Sydney's house, so he hadn't had the opportunity to talk with his teammates about the happenings yet. – "What do _you_ think about it?"

"Okay… well. You know I told you about how Becky… Rebecca used to be my best friend?" – At his nod, she sighed and continued. – "We particularly grew up together. I mean it literally: we went to kindergarten together and our birthdays are only three days apart! Our parents are still best friends and we both have two families in a way. Donny considers her his big sister, just as much as me. Anyway, it all started to change this year when she joined this so-called 'drama club'."

"'You say 'so-called'? Does that mean you don't really believe it's a drama club?"

"I don't know!" – She looked honestly upset and Reid hated to make her talk about it but he knew he had to get as much information out of her as possible. She might know more unconsciously than she even thought. – "All I know is that she only wears black now and she looks like she had joined a satanic cult instead of a normal club. I tried asking her about it; to get her to invite me to one of their performances but she just brushes me off all the time! Ever since she goes there she only ever hangs out with her new friends from this club and hasn't been at our house ever since. Even my family doesn't understand it. Hers either."

The genius nodded thoughtfully.

"This sounds indeed odd. I'd be suspicious too if I were you." – He assured her.

"Did you meet her yesterday? Was she there? Is she all right? Is it really a drama club?"

"Ahm… There was a girl named Rebecca… 'Becca' is what others call him now."

Syndey gasped.

"She always hated that nickname! The boys used to tease her with that at Elementary School!"

"Apparently, she doesn't hate it now… Long dark hair, pale complexion, black make-up?"

"That's her. And is she healthy? Happy?"

He shrugged. He couldn't really tell her she, as one in the 'Inner Circle', was even deeper into that funny business than most. He wasn't sure these kids could still be saved before it would be too late.

"She seemed physically fine."

"Tell me, what's going on there! I don't want you to become like her too! Spencer! Talk to me!"

"Ahm… Well. Can you keep a secret, Sydney?"

"Of course I can! Just tell me finally!"

"Okay…" – Some half-truth should be enough to calm her for a while… he hoped. – "Well, I don't really want to be an actor and I don't care particularly for a drama club either but one of my friends, Robbie, goes to these meetings too, and I'm worried about him. That's why I joined; to see what's going on."

"You have suspicions as well?"

"It would be kinda hard no to…" – He deadpanned. – "But I couldn't find out much yet. It might take some time and I'll have to go back a few times."

"But I'm worried about you! I don't want to lose you just like I lost Becky!" – She was close to tears now, so, apparently, calming her with the revelation hadn't worked out the way he had hoped it would.

"You don't have to be! I can take care of myself, I promise."

"Does your dad know where you go?"

"Ah… Not really…" – He couldn't exactly say he had an elite group of the FBI agents helping him, could he? Though it wasn't a complete lie either: his _father_ sure as hell didn't know anything about him and where he went on certain evenings.

"Spencer! You can't do this! This is dangerous! I'm going with you!" – She declared, crossing her arms strictly.

"What!? No!"

"Yes, I will! I won't let you do this alone! You're even younger than me!"

"Listen here Sydney: I know very well what I'm doing. Besides: it's not so easy to go there. It isn't like you just walk in to a rehearsal or something. Let me do this my way, all right? And about being younger… Well… couldn't we pretend I'm not?"

"We could but you'd still be younger. Believe me, I hate it for many reasons."

Oh, shit… Was she implying what he thought she was, or she wasn't and he only wished she were…? It was getting confusing as hell.

"You know the thing is that I-"

There was a knock on the door.

"Sydney, Spencer: lunch is ready!"

"We're coming!" – He shouted. Turning to the girl, he said much softer: - "We'll talk about that age-thing later…" – He promised, secretly glad he'd have to time come up with a solution that wouldn't endanger their assignment but would maybe... perhaps… possibly give them a chance.

IF a solution like that existed at all. He wasn't sure.

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"Will you tell me if you find something out?" – Asked Sydney when she and Reid were standing in the living room of the girl's house in the evening, the genius having accompanied her home. He had talked a bit to her parents again but then the adults had gone back into their bedroom, leaving the 'teenagers' alone to say goodbye. – "I can't believe someone would be so stupid as to join a 'club' like that!"

"Sydney, listen: everyone has their own story and sometimes it happens that people get so desperate for any attention and company, that they'd do anything to get it. I know what it's like to have difficulties dealing with something that happened to you."

She gasped.

"What do you mean?"

"It's a long story." – There was no way he'd ever tell her about Hankel and Dilaudid. – "I'm just saying: it can happen. Does Rebecca have troubles at home?"

"No, her family is very loving and they support her in everything. I just don't get it!"

"Well, did something happen to her recently? Something that would make her angry at the world, or sad? Desperate even?"

Sydney thought for a moment.

"Well, her grandmother died during the summer holidays. I attended her funeral in September and Becky was, naturally, devastated. She adored her Granny. But would that do _this_ to her?"

He nodded sadly.

"Yeah, losing someone close to you can be a hard blow." – He said, thinking about Gideon leaving with nothing but a note to him… A note that he still carried with him wherever he went; guarding it like a relique. The last thing he'd ever have from the man he had considered a father. Still hoping that maybe; just maybe; he would change his mind and come back, at least to play another game of chess. But, deep down, he knew very well it wouldn't happen. – "Yes, it could have been the trigger." – He finished with a sigh. – "I need to go now, Sydney. Thank you for coming; let's do this again sometime. And of course I'll tell you what I find out. Just please, don't talk about this to anyone."

"I promise you I won't. Thank you, Spencer." – She suddenly leaned closer and kissed him on the mouth. – "Thank you for inviting me." – She smiled.

Reid just nodded, unable to find his voice. He was stunned. The prettiest girl he had ever met had just kissed him! KISSED HIM! Oh, dear God…

He was still out of it when he arrived home. As a matter of fact, he wouldn't be able to tell how he had even managed to get back to the apartment withouth being hit by a car or something, given that he'd been blind and deaf to everything but the memory of her soft lips on his own…

"So, Kiddo, did she get home all right?" – Asked Rossi.

"Aha…" – Answered Reid in a daze, barely managing to break through the fog that was clouding his mind.

The older man smirked knowingly. Damn profilers!

"Oh, I can see now that the day's been a blast."

The genius stopped and stared at his colleague uncomprehendingly. For the first time ever in his life, his brain seemed to be too slow and hazy to catch up to the happenings around him. It was a funny feeling but not particularly bad.

"Huh?" – He asked dumbly, eidetic memory still occupied with Sydney and her _kiss_. He had been _kissed_ and he wasn't even worried about germs! Was that normal? _Should_ he be worried? Though even the germs appeared very attractive if they belonged to her… Maybe he wouldn't mind getting germs from _her_ … They should kiss more often to find out…

Oh, Rossi had been speaking for a while and he hadn't even noticed it.

"… keep in touch?" – The senior profiler watched him expectantly, apparently waiting for an answer. What had been the question again…? – "Kiddo? Are you all right?"

"I… I think I'm going to bed. Good night, Rossi."

"What? But it's only half past eight! Kiddo?" – The older profiler watched as the young genius entered his room and closed the door behind himself.

He chuckled. Oh, being young and in love… He just hoped the boy's heart wouldn't be broken when this would all be over and they'd become agents again who'd need to return to Quantico and continue their normal lives.

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"So, are you ready to take the oath?" – Asked Robbie on Monday as they were waiting for the 'Leader's bus' to appear that would take them to the next meeting of the cult.

Reid shivered in the cold, thinking how unnatural this weather was for early April… Usually, it wasn't snowing and raining this much and it should be a bit warmer as well. It was all because of the socks he was made to wear, he was sure of it! Misfortune was his companion everywhere.

"Yeah." – He answered finally a bit surly, holding back a sneeze. – "Yes, I'm ready. When will the bus come?"

Robbie checked his watch.

"In precisely two minutes. It's never late, don't worry."

"I'm not." – But he _was_. He was worried about going back there, putting on that ridiculous robe again and parading on the stage in front of everyone, chanting a pledge of faithfulness to a megalomaniac teacher claiming to be The Leader. He could think of a number of different things he'd rather be doing right now. Things like sleeping or watching Star Trek. Or talking to Sydney…

"It's here!" – Exclaimed Robbie before grabbing the genius' arm and pulling him towards the waiting vehicle. They found seats next to each other and hopped down onto them. – "I don't mind not having to drive there." – Admitted the chirpy seventeen-year-old.

"I don't mind not taking the car either." – The profiler admitted.

His friend looked sheepish.

"I know I don't drive very well. And I can't learn it if my parents won't let me."

"Hey, it's fine. You will learn." – Assured Reid, not trying to deny the truth about the boy's current driving abilities; it would be useless anyway. – "I'm sure they'll let you soon."

"Nah… they won't. They say I'm too stupid and I couldn't learn anyway."

"Robbie, they keep a car in the garage just for you…" – the genius pointed out. – "Why would they have it if they didn't want you to learn?"

"Well… I don't know?"

"See, it wouldn't make any sense. Give them some credit."

"They hate me." – His friend said sadly.

Reid gave the boy a long and thoughtful look.

"No, I'm pretty certain they don't. They just obviously don't know what to make of you. Help them: show them who you are and what you want. Talk to them."

"But how? I've tried a hundred times; they never listen!"

The genius sighed. He didn't know the answer either. Why should he try to give advice in something he himself hadn't managed to do with his own father?

They spent the rest of the drive in silence, each boy deep in his own thoughts.

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

Getting into the filthy cloak hadn't been any easier than before and neither was Reid any happier about holding the paper cup and pretending to drink the disgusting and smelly liquid. This time though, he was prepared: when he knew everyone else was busy chanting the little poem and enjoying the drug most probably mixed into the 'juice', he pulled a small vial from his pocket and poured some of the solution into it for later examination. Hiding it again wasn't easy with the stupid costume covering his coat. The hood constantly sliding down and covering his eyes didn't help either, but in the end, he managed, just in time for him not to become suspicious when the Leader decided to call him up.

"And now, my faithful Followers: let's welcome our newest member who, by returning to us today, has proven his worth and is therefore entitled to take the oath and become one of us. Please, step up here, my young friend!" – Reid had known this was coming but it didn't mean he felt sure of himself as he left his place in the far end of the room and walked slowly towards the man who seemed to be waiting for him patiently. He could bet the 'Leader' was even smiling under that mask, although he couldn't be sure. Maybe he'd be able to get more information about him when he got closer… - "That's it, don't be afraid. Everyone: he's your new companion. Please, clap to encourage him!" – The cheering didn't do anything for his nerves, Reid thought annoyed. Also, he had to accept that even close-up, there was nothing on the man he recognized. He still had no idea who he could be… – "All right. Please, answer the following questions. First: Are you ready to give up the life you've known and join this new, exciting adventure?"

An 'adventure'? Taking drugs, praying to a madman and planning suicide? Was this man _serious_!?

"Yes, I am ready for the change that's awaiting me." – He dutifully answered, lowering his head as he had been instructed by Robbie to do.

"Are you ready to learn and accept our rules? Do you commit yourself to follow my lead, to trust me entirely and to become equal with your fellow Believers?"

Yeah, of course. 'Equal'. Recalling Rebecca's speech about him not having a chance to get into the 'Inner Circle', he nearly snorted. But he held himself back and recited the answer he had learnt instead:

"I am fully prepared to take on that responsibility."

"Are you aware of the fact that everything that happens here has to remain a secret? That undere no circumstances are the Unfaithful to learn about our family? Do you swear not to reveal anything and not to pry into secrets that are not for you to know?"

Almost smirking at the thought of the tiny microphone hidden under his T-shirt and the six agents listening to every word they were uttering, he crossed his fingers under the long sleeves of the cape and calmly replied:

"Should I break my promise, my Leader, I would gladly accept the rightful punishment for my sins."

"Which is?" – Asked the man the final question, placing a heavy hand on the youngest profiler's shoulder, squeezing the frail boy painfully. Getting to this point meant he had been satisfied with his new 'Follower' and was willing to give him the chance to joing the 'club' if he didn't mess up this last test.

Reid gritted his teeth at the pain the grasp was causing and repeated the words Robbie had impressed upon him, careful not to let his voice waver or show any sign of hesitation:

"Pain. Death."

The man pressed down once more then suddenly let go and laughed menacingly.

"Right you are: pain and death. Well, my young friend: Welcome to the _Seers of Light_!"


	18. Sick Day

**Sick Day**

The next day, Reid had difficulties dragging himself out of bed in the morning and shuffling his way to the far away kitchen in the hope that an enormous amount of coffee would do him some good in helping him get moving and stopping him giving the impression of an overweight slug.

His head felt like it was about to explode and his nose was completely stuffy. His eyes had been burning like hell ever since he had opened them and he didn't even want to start thinking about his throat… It was simply on fire.

All in all: he was totally miserable.

"Good morning, Kiddo!" – Greeted him Rossi in his usual bubbly manner. The man, for some utterly unfathomable reason, seemed to like early mornings.

"Yeah… The same to you too." – Croaked the young man, who in turn, hated mornings with a vengeance even on the best of days, let alone now when he just wanted to suffer; maybe even die; in peace and not have to think about anything for a while. An impossible feat to achieve with that genius brain of his, he knew that very well, but one could eternally hope, right? Besides, the kiss had done him good… Maybe he should kiss Sydney again to go back to the blissfully oblivious state he'd been in when-

"Kiddo? KIDDO!"

"Yeah?"

"I've been asking you if you're all right… So: are you?"

"What?"

"All right!"

"Oh! Sure…"

The senior profiler shook his head in disbelief and stepped closer to his colleague to put a comfortably cool hand on the burning forehead.

"You're running a fever."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are. Denying it won't change the fact. You're sick." – Said Rossi, brushing back the fringe in a fatherly way.

"No, I'm not! I'm fine." – Insisted the youngster stubbornly, but he also, at the same time, leaned into the hand as if it magically made him feel better.

"Yep. Definitely a fever there."

"But I never get sick! I'm immune!"

Rossi laughed out loud at that.

"I hate to disappoint, Kiddo, but nobody is immune to the common flu!"

"But I am!" – He suspected he didn't sound very convinving with his painfully hoarse voice. Damn, his throat was scratchy!

The older man sighed exasperatedly.

"Just go back to bed, and I'll bring you meds and tea, all right?"

Reid crossed his arms like the teenager he pretended to be. Even though he felt awful as hell, he wouldn't give up so easily; challanging all authority seemed to be the new thing for him.

"I want coffee!"

"Not happening. So, march, young man! I'll be there in a few."

Rossi laughed again to himself as he heard the boy stomp all the way into his room and slam the door harshly. He was really dealing with a moody teenager, it would seem…

 _\- Aaron Hotchner._

\- Aaron, it's me. Listen, the kid has gotten sick and-

 _\- Oh, my God! What happened? Is he injured? In hospital? I'll come; where are you? Let me get the team and we'll-_

\- Hey, hold on for a second! It's only the flu! I just wanted to ask you if he has any allergies to meds or something, because he sure as hell can't be trusted to tell me the truth right now.

 _\- Why? Is he unconscious? Is he delirious? Is-_

\- No, he's just being himself.

 _\- Oh. That's good then. Well, he doesn't have any allergies but don't give him narcotics._

\- Yeah, I gathered as much… Some Tylenol will do then, I at least know he's fine with that.

 _\- You know, he doesn't get sick often but when he does, he's even more… Reid… then normally. Only Jason could deal with him at times like that. Heaven only knows how he did it._

\- I think I might manage just fine. – Rossi loved Jason Gideon like you'd love a brother, but he was starting to have enough of being compared to the other man when it came to caring for their resident genius.

 _\- I didn't mean to insinuate anything else; I know you're doing a great job with him, Dave. I just worry, that's all. Reid is different from anyone else I've ever had on my team. It's a great responsibility to have someone that young and vulnerable under my care._

\- I know that but I have a feeling he might not be as vulnerable as you think… Well, I need to go because, right now, he's a grumpy child. Don't worry Aaron, between me and the members of the OCU, we'll get him back to normal in no time. I mean, as normal as he can be.

 _\- All right. Keep me posted. And Dave: thank you._

\- It's a pleasure. You know, it's funny: he's a real germaphobic, worrying about deseases all the time, but when he really does catch something, he tries to deny it vehemently. Where's the logic in that?

 _\- It's something only he understands. We call it Reid-logic. Are you surprised?_

\- Actually: no. His mind has a unique way of working, that's for sure. Well, goodbye, Aaron.

 _\- Bye. And tell him to get well soon._

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

Rossi knocked on the boy's door and – upon receiving a grunt that could mean anything but the senior profiler decided to take it as invitation – entered the dark room.

"Hey, Kiddo. Here's an Earl Grey for you with honey and a Tylenol pill. Come on, get out from under those blankets and take your meds."

"Immmadie." – Came the muted mumble from beneath three layers of covers.

"What was that?"

An abused-looking head poked out just enough to peer up at the confused-looking man standing there.

"I said I'm going to die." – The boy repeated miserably. – "Hey, don't laugh at me!"

"Sorry, Rudolph." – At the genius' questioning look, the older man added. – "You know: Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer?"

"Haha… Very funny… I'm no-" – The protest was interrupted by a loud sneeze.

"Actually, it _is_ somewhat funny. And no, you won't die. It's just the flu; you'll be fine in a couple of days. Come on, sit up and drink your tea. It will help your sore throat."

The boy took the pill with a bit of water then sipped the hot tea for a while in silence, appreciating the taste. After a few minutes, he turned to his colleague and – after a bit of hesitation – asked the question that had been weighting upon him ever since he had started feeling sick.

"Rossi? Do you think… Well… How can one catch the flu?"

"What?"

"I mean: why did I catch it? You know… How does this happen. I mean… ahm…"

The man actually burst out in an uncontrollable fit of laughter at that which he had a hard time come out of. Reid had to wait patiently… more like _impatiently…_ for the man to be able to talk again.

"Sorry… It's just hilarious."

"I'm always happy to entertain…" – Hissed the boy sarcastically.

"Okay, okay. So: no. You didn't catch it the way you're afraid you did."

"Huh? I really don't know what you're talking about…"

The senior profiler winked.

"Don't you?" – The genius crossed his arms petulantly, causing the older man to giggle again. – "Kiddo: you didn't catch the flu by kissing Sydney." – He spelled it out for him.

"WHAT!? I didn't… I mean… We didn't… No… I… khm…"

Rossi smirked.

"Of course, you did. But the flu or cold or whatever it is, is from that chilly damp place you go to every Monday and Friday. Remember…?"

"Oh! You sure?"

"Yep. We'll get you a warmer coat and better boots for next time, all right? You were freezing yesterday, we could hear your chattering teeth over the microphone."

"Thank God! I mean, it's not like I want to do anything that would… No, it doesn't sound right… I mean-"

"I don't think you want to continue that thought."

"I don't think so either." – Admitted the youngest profiler reluctantly. – "Maybe I could get new socks too? You know… warmer ones… These simple and boring black pairs aren't very fluffy and comfortable anyway." – He added thoughtfully.

He could see that the senior profiler was having way too much fun at his expense.

"We'll see." – The man said once his chuckle ceased a bit. He then took the empty mug and stood. – "So, I need to go; I'll have three lessons in that school of yours today. I'll tell the principal you got sick so that they won't miss you."

Reid nodded, sliding back under the heap of blankets.

"Tell her I approve."

"You approve of what?"

"Well: of you and her of course!"

"WHAT!?"

"Well, she'll want to know what your son thinks about you two going out and then marrying… Tell her, I'm okay with that. I think you'll be great as a couple."

"Kiddo, I think your fever might have risen further…"

"No, no. I'm being serious. And be careful with the flu when you kiss her!"

Rossi shook his head fondly.

"Sweet dreams, Reid. Ian and the others will come to check on you regularly and I'll be back in the afternoon."

The boy was already half asleep again.

"Okay…" – He mumbled. – "Or I could go up to them if you'd like to be alone with her here…"

"Goodbye, Kiddo!"

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

"Prentiss, I'm worried. Reid is sick and we still don't know where they are!" – Complained Hotch, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He wasn't used to not being in charge of his own people; especially to not even knowing where they were. – "Have you been able to find out something?"

Emily shook her head sadly, hating to disappoint her boss and friend.

"I'm sorry, Hotch. I've been trying but it seems impossible. Jasper hasn't ever been this tight-lipped about anything before! I tried everything…"

"Can't you offer him a date, or something?" – The raven-haired woman blinked. – "Sorry, it was out of line. Of course I don't expect-"

"I told you sir: I've tried _everything_. Even that. He told me he'd be happy to take me out for a date but he wouldn't tell me anything even then."

"Oh… And what did you answer?"

"Well… I stormed out of his office, of course!"

The unit chief sighed.

"Garcia has been unable to trace their calls. I don't know how this is even possible. I mean: Garcia can do anything, right? But not this, it would seem…"

"So, they can call us but we can't call them." – Observed the woman.

"Pretty much; yes."

"This sucks."

"Tell me about it."

Outside in the bullpen, Morgan and JJ were discussing the situation among themselves.

"Derek, I'm telling you: something's wrong! Those two have started these little private talks and they never tell us what it's about." – JJ observed, watching the closed blinds on their boss' window suspiciously. – "What do you think could be going on?"

"Well, maybe they're dating…"

"Derek!"

"Well, why not? They're both single…"

"Oh, come on! Hotch has been going to Garcia's office a lot lately too!"

"WHAT!? You don't think… Baby Girl and Hotch…?"

"Of course not! It must be about Rossi and Spence." – She stated annoyed. – "Haven't you noticed this started when they got 'borrowed'?"

Morgan thought back to the timeline of recent happenings.

"You're right." – He admitted finally. – "I'm worried about them. They've been gone for weeks and we haven't heard from them ever since. I've tried calling both and neither picks up. They're not even in this building; at least I haven't been able to find them."

"Exactly. And Hotch and Emily look worried too. Garcia as well… though she doesn't seem to know more. She said Hotch asked her to trace some calls; he only had the time, no number or anything. He didn't tell her who these callers were or why he needed it but he seemed, according to Penelope, very anxious."

"So? Has she traced them?"

"That's exactly it! She has been unable to!"

The dark-skinned agent looked up to the technical analyst's office in surprise.

"What? That's impossible! Baby Girl can do everything!"

"Yes, well. Apparently not that."

"And do you think this has something to do with the Kid and Rossi?"

"I don't know Derek. I really don't know anything anymore… I just want to get them back! I want to know they're safe."

"Yes. Me too…"

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

Rossi had just gotten home to find Simon sitting on the couch in the living room, reading one of the books written by him.

"Oh, hi, David! You're a great writer, you know that? I'm rather enjoying your description of that maniac serial killer who had decapitated five woman and made wigs of their hairs before you managed to catch him. Enthralling."

The senior profiler rolled his eyes, knowing very well the case had been anything but 'enthralling'.

"How is the Kid?" – He asked, motioning towards the closed door.

"Last time I checked, he was sleeping soundly. Poor Genius Boy really needs some warmer clothes, doesn't he? He's so frail, no wonder he's freezing all the time."

"Yes. I promised him he'd get a new coat by Friday."

Simon nodded.

"Ian and Walker have gone to buy him new things."

"Thanks. And also thank you for staying here and watching him. I appreciate that. I know, you usually don't worry that much about an FBI agent but… he's…"

"Different. Yes, I know." – Smiled the other man. – "Oh, I wish we could keep him!"

"Forget it!"

"Okay, okay! Well, see you tomorrow then? Marshall is analyzing the recording of the last cult meeting and we should get the results of the examination of that liquid back soon too. We'll know by this evening what these kids are regularly drugged with."

"Right. Tell me when you know something. And thanks again. Bye."

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

Half an hour later Reid woke to someone sitting down on the bed, placing a hand on his forehead to check his temperature.

"Hi, Rossi…" – He yawned, stretching his long arms and legs. – "Whatsup?" He muttered.

"How are you feeling, Kiddo?" – Asked the man kindly. – "Are you up to eating something?"

"No… But I'm better. I guess…"

"You'll need to eat later then. You haven't had anything all day." – He scolded gently.

"Hmmm…"

"Listen, I met Sydney at the school today…"

The boy's eyes shot open and he struggled to sit up.

"Yeah? Is she all right? What did she say?"

The senior profiler smiled.

"She's worried about you and wouldn't believe me when I told her it's only the flu. I guess she's afraid something happened to you yesterday…"

"Well, something did! I caught this bug! Because I caught it there, right? You're sure about that, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am. And I have a feeling you'll get a visitor later this afternoon."

"Really?" – The young man squeaked, sounding like fingernails scraping across a blackboard. He coughed right after that.

"Yes, she said so." – Answered Rossi when the genius could breathe again. – "So, do me a favor and don't give this flu to her, all right?"

Reid blushed adorably.

"Why would I…?"

"Oh, I don't know…"

"Rossi? Did you invite the principal?"

"I'm going to make you a light soup which you _will_ eat, Kiddo. Rest until then."

"But you haven't answered! Rossi? Rossi! Where are you going? Hey! Tell me! ROSSI!"

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

True to her word, Sydney knocked on the door at around six in the afternoon, wanting to see that Spencer was all right with her own eyes. Smiling, Rossi led her into the living room and went to warn the boy about his visitor.

"Kiddo?"

"Hmm…?"

"Sydney is here and-"

Reid was wide awake even before Rossi could finish the sentence. He jumped out of bed and frantically started searching for something to wear. Anything that wasn't his pajamas he had currently on.

"Oh, my God, she can't see me like that! I must look horrible! I should take a shower! But I have no time… You said she was already here? Why didn't you tell me she was coming?"

"I did tell you."

"No, you didn't! Oh… You did? Well… Where the hell are my pants!?"

"Do you mean those that are sticking out from under the bed?" – The man asked, pointing at said clothing that lay on the floor. – "Calm down. You are sick and she knows that. She's expecting you to be in bed."

"But I don't expect myself to be in bed when she comes! She shouldn't see me like that!" – He was sounding desperate now because he couldn't find a suitable T-shirt.

"Reid! Lie down! She's outside, waiting to come in. I'll just open the blinds and tell her she can come."

"Oh!" – The boy, giving up on the clothes as hopeless, climbed back into the bed and waited for the girl to arrive.

There was a faint knock then the door opened and ever so slowly, Sydney stepped into the room.

"Spencer?" – She whispered barely audibly, as if the boy were lying on his deathbed. – "Are you awake?"

"Sydney! Sure! Come in!" – He said enthusiastically. – "Thank you for coming."

"Oh, Spencer, I was so worried! When your dad said you were sick I thought… He tried to assure me it was just the flu but he doesn't know about the investigation and the drama club…" – She explained very quickly, biting her lip nerviosly. – "What did they do to you?"

Oh, bless her, she'd been really worried! Reid tried and failed to feel sorry for her instead of the happiness he experienced. He knew he should feel ashamed but he couldn't bring himself to be.

"It's okay; they didn't do anything. As a matter of fact: it really _is_ just the flu." – He consoled her. – "Though I got it there because it's soooo cold during their meetings… That's all." – He sneezed as if to make his point.

"Bless you. Are you sure it's nothing more serious?" – She still didn't seem convinced and insisted on looking him up and down in search for injuries he might be hiding.

"Yes, I'm sure, Sydney. It's fine."

"Okay…" – Finally, she appeared satisfied enough to lean back on the chair and relax a bit. – "So, did you find out something?"

Reid sighed.

"Not really… I mean, I know a bit more about their workings but I still haven't been able to identify the teacher behind it all. He's always hidden and he uses some device to change his voice. I don't know how I could catch him."

"Are you even sure it's a 'him'?" – She asked.

"I think so… Why? Do you know something?"

She shook her head.

"Not really. Becky became quite close to Mrs. Summers last years. That was before she started to change. I thought maybe she could have something to do with it, but I really don't know."

"Mrs. Summers… What's she teach?"

"Algebra I. Becky has always had a hard time with anything to do with numbers and math, and Mrs. Summers helped her a lot last year; even tutored her after classes. If she'll manage to graduate, it will be only thanks to her."

"Hm… I'm pretty sure it's a man but it is worth looking into it more. Do you maybe have a hunch about which male teacher could be suspicious? Anything would be helpful."

She mentally pictured all the teachers she knew at school and tried to imagine one of them as the 'bad guy'.

"I don't know…" – She said finally. – "Mr. Adams is a bit weird… He teaches Chemistry to our class and he has stupid jokes and snorts all the time. But other than that… Nobody comes to mind. Sorry."

"It's okay. I'll find it out." – He promised sincerely.

"But why does it have to be you!?" – She blurted out angrily. – "Why don't we just call the police and-"

"And what? What would we say? 'We think there's someone up to some funny business but we don't know who and what he's doing. Sorry, would you investigate it, please?' Come on, Sydney, they'd just laugh at us! We don't have any evidence. We need to have more information to be able to do anything." – He couldn't tell her _he_ was the 'police' here, and that no, nobody else would help them.

"Okay, you have a point. But I'm worried!" – She was close to tears and Reid would have liked to hug her. But he held himself back, reminding himself of the nasty germs he would stick at her unwillingly with such an act. So he just smiled encouragingly instead.

"Don't be. I'm a master of survival. Believe me: I can do it. I _will_ do it."


	19. One Step Forward

**One Step Forward**

"Okay, so: what do we know this far?" – Asked Simon, taking a sheet of paper and a pen.

It was Wednesday morning and Reid was sitting at the big dining table in the five men's apartment, going through all their previous notes and information. He was feeling much better than the day before but Rossi had insisted he stay at home one more day to completely heal and get back his strength. So, while the senior profiler and Dean had gone back to school to teach, he was stuck here with the four other Organized Crime Unit agents; working instead of relaxing.

"Well, we do know it's a white man. Probably in his forties." – He said, figuring if he was condemned to stay inside the whole day again, he might as well participate in the discussion and put his two cents in. – "He's tall and presumably lean, though it's hard to tell with that cloak. And he's cruel."

Walker scribbled something before saying:

"We know he's taking money from the teenagers, so somebody is bound to have realized he's spending more than before."

"Although we don't know if he is spending it. Or how long he's been doing this." – Pointed out Marshall.

"That's right. He might have an account and be saving the money for later use. Or just not spend it very visibly…" – Added Ian, slightly frustrated. – "We're no closer to finding him than before. David and Dean have been monitoring the teachers but have come up empty handed. They're saying: nobody looks suspicious at all."

"Well, I wouldn't say we haven't made progress." – Said Reid thoughtfully. At the other men's incredulous expressions, he smiled and explained: - "Well, we have his profile!"

"We do?"

"Why, of course we do!" – They still didn't seem to understand it. He sighed; he kept forgetting they weren't profilers. – "Okay, listen: we have to think about what kind of person could pull this off. Cult leaders are generally charismatic and possess good leading abilities. They recognize other people's weaknesses and play into them effortlessly. If he were too brash, the kids would be afraid of him; but were he too shy? They'd just laughed at him. Either way: nobody would join his organization. So, we're looking for someone who's probably well-liked and easy-going. He seeks the company of the students even outside of class. I bet his classes are stress-free and interesting. His approachable, open and friendly."

"So, you're saying we're looking for someone you'd like to befriend?"

"Basically: yes. And also, his speciality is singling out the children who are insecure: either they have problems at home with their parents like Robbie, or have suffered a devastating loss they can't talk about with anyone, like Rebecca. That means, he somehow gains their confidence and gets them to talk to him. He needs to know about these things to be able to use them."

It was evident the men hadn't thought about that before. Not like this, at least.

"Right. And how do you think he could learn this much about them?" – Inquired Simon, visibly interested in the theory.

"As a teacher, if the students feel they can go to him with their personal problems, he most certainly has the opportunity. No one would suspect anything wrong by a teacher talking to a student, right? But we'll have to consider a wilder range of suspects, like the career counselor, the school doctor or even the workers at the canteen. Everyone who has the opportunity to gain the teenagers' trust."

Simon scribbled rapidly as he asked:

"Do you have someone you think we should investigate?"

"I'm absolutely sure it's none of the teachers I've met, so we can exclude them all."

"What makes you so certain?" – Questioned Marshall but he was already checking the boy's timetable and crossing out the names of his teachers from their list. He trusted the young profiler without resevations.

Reid shrugged.

"I know what kind of person we're looking for and none of them fits the criteria. The man we want to find is pathologically narcissistic, but you wouldn't be able to tell it at first, since he's also an impressive actor. Still, his true personality shines through his act from time to time." – He took a deep breath and continued. – "He has an over-abundant belief that he's special and that nobody is smart enough to see the real 'him' and to realize his schemes. This uppish approach could be his downfall because he doesn't expect to get caught. He thinks, frightening everyone with his admittedly quite spectacular performance on the meetings is enough to be safe."

"And isn't it? So far, it seems to be working…" – Sighed Ian.

"So far, yes. But at just the slightest sign of rebellion, this could change in an instant. These kids are an age where they want to fight for their independence. And then comes someone who wants their total loyalty? Who bosses them around? They might be brainwashed right now but they will come to their senses if they're promted properly. I'm not so sure about the 'Inner Circle' though…"

"Does he believe his own lies or is he just feeding these to the children to scare them?" – Asked Simon.

Reid thought about what he already knew before answering.

"I believe he thinks he's above everyone: smarter, stronger, more valuable. But he doesn't believe in the gods, the Light and the Truth he speaks about. He's not that delusional, he's much more organized than that. He has a goal and this is the means to get it."

"And what could that goal be?"

"Well, getting money, for one. That's without question. Other than that: to prove to everyone, including himself that he has the power to get people do his bidding. I do think he would make these kids kill themselves in the end, if not for any other reason, then because, like I already said, they're bound to come to their senses one day and he can't afford to have that. So, he'll make them commit suicide so that he can continue with others. It… khm… I think it is possible he has done that before."

The members of the Organized Crime Unit made a face and looked very uncomfortable. That wasn't something they had considered and they'd have preferred for it to have stayed that way… Kids as victims were always the worst.

"And the drugs? The lab found an unhealthy amount of Ecstasy in that drink you brought. Why use them?"

"To make the teenagers dependent on him, of course. That's what makes it so enjoyable for Robbie and the others: it's a complete different reality to their miserable everyday lives."

"How will we find him then?" – Asked Walker.

"This is the million dollar question…" – Said Marshall sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

Reid smiled.

"Well, he believes in his unlimited success, power and brilliance. He demands blind unquestioned obedience and requires admiration. He has the rituals carefully planed and executed to the detail. I'll just have to act out to make him mad enough so that eventually he'll make a mistake. He'll do something that will give him away. Even if not right then and there but he will do something that's characteristical to him and that we'll recognize later at school too."

"Sounds like a plan, but isn't it a bit dangerous to anger that man in an environment completely controlled by him?"

Reid looked anywhere but at his friends.

"It is _extremely_ dangerous. But we don't have any other choice, do we?"

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

Spencer knew The Leader, given his personality, needed to be the center of attention at all times. He ensured that it be so with his ridiculous 'equal' clothes, the dramatically altered voice and speech pattern, and also with the theatrical entrances he made at the meetings.

On Friday, the youngest profiler, back from his sick leave and ready for action, decided to disrupt these practices a bit and see what would happen. He had talked about it with the others and despite the fact that they hated to place their youngest in danger, they knew they had to try it. Rossi had been the hardest to convince and had only relented when they had agreed Simon would be circling close with his car and ready to rush to his aid should help be needed.

Just as the criminal man entered through the backdoor and walked towards the center of the podium with an air of self-assuredness bordering on arrogance, Reid started a coughing fit that had all the students standing near turn towards him in surprise.

Keeping in mind that they weren't allowed to talk, he signaled 'sorry' into their general direction, still facing the Leader who looked – even without seeing his face – somewhat insecure and confused. Apparently, never before had it happened that the whole gathering of Followers wasn't looking at him in awe when he graced them with his presense with his billowing cape and mysterious air. Good.

"My faithful Followers!" – He began when he had the audience's full attention again. – "Welcome to our meeting. We've had another week full of unclean babbling and unnecessary facts thrown upon us by people who want to prevent us from Seeing. Who themselves don't understand the workings of the world. The Enemy is everywhere! You have to be careful with what you listen to and-"

Reid, unnoticed by everyone, had gradually scooted to the side and suddenly knocked over the table holding the disgusting drinks waiting to be handed out later. The paper cups fell to the floor and a nice puddle formed of the lost liquid at their feet.

"What happened?"

"How did this happen?"

"It wasn't me! I didn't do it!"

"What do we do now?"

"I think—"

"SILENCE!" – Shouted The Leader angrily, voice sounding desperate even with the device altering it. – "What the hell is going on here? Who dared disturb my speech?" – He had definitely lost ground and Reid; who was observing the man intently, looking for any signature he could use at a later time to identify him; could see the insecurity building in their 'great' and 'invincible' Leader. – "Everyone stand back into the circle! NOW!"

As the order slowly but surely got reinstated and everyone accepted with a sad sigh that there would be no 'drinking to the gods' that day, Reid smiled to himself under his hood, carefully hiding his expression from everyone; thought by now the whole ensemble was preoccupied with the charismatic man's performance yet again. 'Well, for now.' – He thought with a smirk.

For he had found what he'd been looking for.

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

"This was a crazy session, right?" – Asked Robbie when they had boarded the bus after the 'meeting'.

Reid glanced sideways at his depressed friend.

"Yeah. Crazy." – He agreed half-heartedly.

"And we didn't even get our drink." – Sighed the boy sadly. – "This never happened before."

The young profiler scooted a bit closer to the other boy, making sure nobody could hear them.

"Why is it such a bad thing? It's just a drink…" – He prompted.

"It makes me feel better." – Was all the explanation he got.

"But do you know _why_?" – He pressed further.

"No. It just does. Don't you like it?"

"Not particularly… And how do you feel without it?"

"Dunno… Dull, I guess."

The genius thought it was time to ask the question that could be very important later on.

"Robbie… Why do you go to these meetings? What do you like about them?" – He wanted to know. – "And don't tell me it's really because you want to 'See the Light' and all the crap like that."

The seventeen-year-old seemed a bit hesitant. He looked around to assure himself nobody was listening in on their conversation.

"The Leader _cares_ , you know? He's the only one who says we're all equal. My parents think I'm just a stupid little boy and I won't do anything important with my life. The Leader doesn't say that. He believes in me, I'm even in the Inner Circle. He trusts me."

"You think that man _cares_ about us?" – Reid repeated incredulously. – "You can't be serious!"

His friend was visibly getting angry.

"I _am_ serious! He _does_ care! It's your own fault if you can't see that and then maybe you shouldn't have joined at all! You don't appreciate our 'family'!"

"Hey, okay, okay! I'm new, I'm just trying to learn, that's all. Take it easy, man."

So, apparently Robbie and the other fanatics wouldn't be persuaded to leave the sect… This wasn't good news at all; they needed to act quickly to prevent a catastrophe.

He'd just have to talk to every possible UnSub at school and look for the signature he had found today. Piece of cake, isn't it? Yeah, right…

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

On Monday during lunch break, Reid knocked on the door of the school's very own counselor. Actually, they had two but the other one was a woman, so she wasn't a suspect. The man though was high on his list of 'people to check'.

"Come in, it's open." – Came the reply from the other side and the young genius, having made sure nobody saw him, carefully slipped inside to room.

"Hello, Mr. Rhys." – The man was white and in his forties. Check. Although he didn't seem very tall at first glance, it wasn't easy to tell with him sitting down. – "I'm Spencer Rossi, a new student."

"Mr. Rossi, it's a pleasure. Take a seat."

"Thank you." – No, the man definitely wasn't tall. That didn't check out then. Still, this fact didn't completely exclude him just yet; especially considering he must have the most access to distraught students here.

"What may I help you with?" – The counselor asked pleasantly.

"I… khm…"

"You know you can say anything, and it stays between us, right? It's my job to help you with whatever I can."

"Yes… Well, okay: you know it's just that sometimes I feel like nobody understands me…" – He began, watching the man's reaction like a hawk. If he was their UnSub, he'd be very interested in an insecure young teenager and event work on strengthening these self-doubts.

The man however only nodded in understanding.

"Quite a common feeling at your age. You are constantly changing, coming up with new ideas, forming plans for the future and looking for new friends… and nobody seems to be able to keep up with you, right?"

Oh, he had no idea…

"Something like that, yeah…" – He shrugged.

"Being a teenager and going to high school is all about figuring out who you are and who you want to be. You're searching for your own identity and try out different things along the way. It's normal to be confused and unsure for now."

"I guess." – Reid said, having lost interest already, his mind running in twenty different directions at once.

"You often ask: am I interested in sports? Or: do I like this girl? Maybe I like a boy?" – The genius was abruptly brought back to reality hearing that.

"What!?"

"Do you, by chance, like a boy, Spencer?" – Asked the man, expression full of exaggerated compassion.

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I am."

"Oh. Well, what about girls? Do you like a girl?"

"Ahm… I haven't thought about it…" – He fidgeted nerviously.

"Have you thought about your future plans? Wanting a family? A career?"

"I'd like a career." – He answered, hoping it wouldn't tigger another lecture about what was normal and what not.

No such luck.

"It's, of course, completely understandable if you still don't exactly know what you'd like to do. But do you maybe have an idea what kind of profession it could be?"

"Maybe… the police…?" – Reid tried.

"Oh. Will you take an advice?" – Not waiting for an answer, the man continued. – "Police, military and such things… those are not for someone with your… khm… _physique_."

The genius pretended to be surprised.

"No?"

"No."

"What is for someone like me then?" – He wanted to know, curious what the man would say.

"Lots of things! You just have to be at ease with yourself and to get to know your own abilities. You could be, for example, a bookkeeper."

"A… _bookkeeper_?"

"Yes. I could see you doing that. Or perhaps a sales manager."

"You could see me be a _sales manager_? Why?"

"I think you have the qualities."

"But I hate talking to strangers and I'm really awkward…" – Pointed out the genius, fighting hard not to laugh.

"Then you'll have to work to break these barriers."

"Okay… Well, I think it's time for me to go to class… Thank you very much for listening to me and giving great advice…" – With that, he all but fled the room, not even looking back.

Outside he pulled out his cell and sent an SMS to Dean who he knew was anxiously waiting to hear from him to find out if he was still alive.

 _SR: He's a real moron but not our man._

 _DK: Are you sure?_

 _SR: Positive._

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

The next few weeks were spent with going to classes, teaching French to Sydney and Advanced Calculus to Robbie, attending 'meetings' (at least in warmer clothes than before which had prevented him from getting sick again) and, during these all, looking for the suspect who could be 'The Leader' manipulating and slowly destroying teenagers.

Oh, and with Dean training him to become more like Superman, apparently…

"Dean, why are you so intent on killing me? I can't feel my legs after your classes for two days! And by the time I get better there's another PE!"

"Because, Genius Boy, we need to continue what you started at the camp. You'll be real fit in no time." – The man had promised.

And in fact, now when Reid looked at his reflexion in the mirror, he could detect slight changes on his body.

He pointed it out to Rossi one morning during breakfast.

"Rossi?"

"Hmmm?"

"Do you think I'm gaining muscles?"

The older man choked on his coffee then proceeded to engage in a coughing fit that lasted a full minute. The genius helpfully patted his back to make sure his colleague wouldn't actually die and waited patiently for the answer.

" _Muscles_?" – Sqeaked the senior profiler when he was able to breathe again. – "Where did that come from?"

"Well, you know that Dean's been torturing me ever since he became the sports teacher… And now… look!" – He flexed his arms the way body builders do to demonstrate his progress.

His biceps were a little more pronounced than those of an underfed two-year-old baby.

"Ahm…"

"See? There's definitely something building there." – The boy nodded in satisfaction.

"Well… yes. Sure. Whatever you say, Kiddo."

"I wonder if Morgan will notice. He always teases me about being a twig." – Mused the youngster seriously. – "You think he will notice, Rossi?"

"Maybe…"

"Cool!"

The other thing he had been working hard on was shooting. As soon as Ian had managed to convince Colling to give them back their guns and credentials ("Sir, we could need them to defend ourselves when we finally arrest the man! He's dangerous!" – He had reasoned with success.), Marshall and Walker took turns practicing with the young profiler on weekends, claiming he had potential and what he needed was only the opportunity to strive. They were certain the main 'problem' had been that the BAU team cuddled and babied him too much and thus, however unintentionally, had prevented him from coming to his full potential.

"You are the youngest, that's true but that also means you're _special_!" – Assured him Walker in a heated argument one day. – "Nobody has ever managed to get into the FBI this young, let alone an elite group. You. Are. Special." – He pressed upon seeing the young genius shaking his head in protest.

"You have demonstrated more than once that you _can_ do it, Genius Boy." – Continued Marshall. – "We only want you to believe in yourself. You are an FBI agent and you can be that without any waivers thrown your way. We'll prove it and you'll see we're right."

"Gideon and Hotch thought I couldn't do it…" – The boy admitted sheepishly. – "And they were probably right. So, they helped me pass my tests and then never mentioned it again. I don't think anyone expected me to be of any use to them on field. They usually keep me away from danger. However… it doesn't always work." – He remarked with a bit of sarcasm, thinking about Georgia and how he'd have loved to have the skills he was picking up now back then already.

The agents shook their heads.

"It's one thing to try and protect you." – Said Marshall.

"And a completely different thing not to give you the training you need to survive, should you find yourself on your own anyway." – Finished Walker. – "So, come on, the target's there."

So, that was it; they wouldn't let him get out of training and practicing. They were demanding but fair and approachable teachers and Reid was proud to say he flourished under their tutelage magnificently. And while he missed his teammates and friends, he also enjoyed this brief brush with 'normal' and 'everyday' life where he could work without seeing mutilated bodies every day and go to school without ending up locked up in a locker helplessly and afraid. Rossi was an incredible father to have, Sydney and Robbie were the best of 'normal' friends and all in all: he didn't have anything to complain about.

He was happy.


	20. The Discovery

**The Discovery**

April had said its goodbye and stepped aside to make way for May. The beginning of the new month brought light and warmth and had the students spend more and more time outdoors enjoying the sunshine; and Reid was right there along with them.

"Finally!" – Exclaimed Robbie on a Wednesday afternoon as they left the school together, having just finished their respective classes for the day. – "This was an unusually long and cold wintertime!"

"I hear you." – Nodded the youngest profiler. – "I hate cold, I'm always freezing. Brrrr."

"Shall we go get a cake or something?"

"Sure."

They made their way to the small but cozy coffee shop not far away that had been the genius' first stop each morning for the last couple of weeks, ever since he had discovered that they served an incredible coffee with just a bit of cinnamon to improve its flavor. The girl at the counter, around Reid's (real) age, seemed to have a soft spot for the gangly youth, and that ensured he got a small biscuit to go along with his drink every time he graced the shop. Admittedly, he had even gotten her number one morning, but that was a different question altogether… He was beginning to think it hadn't been such a bad idea to cut his hair, change his clothes and start working out with Dean – his success with women had considerably grown ever since, that was for sure. And he wasn't even trying, honestly.

The bell chimed as they opened the door and the girl – Kathy – smiled upon seeing the newly arrived costumers.

"Hello, boys!" – She said brightly. – "Had an exhausting day?"

"No, it was okay." – Shrugged Reid, taking a look at the selection of delicious looking pastries. – "And how about you?" – He asked politely, trying to decide between the triple belgian chocolate cake and the chocolate orange cake. Both looked amazing.

"Oh, thank you very much for asking! You're so nice! I've had a wonderful day." – She was glowing with happiness caused by this simple act of courtesy and the genius felt instantly sheepish. He really wasn't trying to flirt with her. In the end, he ordered the chocolate-orange combo and the boys chose a table in the corner of the room.

"I think she likes you." – Observed Robbie, looking almost sad. – "I wish someone would like me…" – He added with a sigh.

The youngest profiler was feeling increasingly uncomfortable; he wasn't very good at sharing private thoughts or giving advice in love matters. He was sure JJ would know what to say though…

"Ahm… Well, someone will come when you're not even expecting it." – He said finally, feeling quite proud of himself for coming up with such a wise thing to say.

"No. Nobody likes me."

Damn…

"I'm sure it's not true, Robbie. You're nice and caring… why wouldn't they like you?"

"My parents said nobody would. They said I just bring shame to the family."

Damn again. The boy's family always came up, whatever they were doing and wherever they were. Just two weeks ago, they had gone to the movies with a couple of other boys from school. The day would have been a complete success, hadn't his friend burst out in tears in the evening for having to go home and explain where he had been. "They will kill me." – He had said with total conviction. Apparently, he wasn't allowed to have fun because he was supposed to sit home and study. In the end, Reid had accompanied the boy home and had even assisted in lying about having attended a study group together. He was considered some kind of hero in the Cain household, so they had believed him without question. He couldn't even bring himself to feel bad about it.

"Well. I'm proud of having you as a friend." – He said, taking a bite of the cake. It was as tasty as it looked. He thought he should bring home some for the others as well, since Rossi wouldn't be able to cook this afternoon: he was meeting with the principal to talk about other classes he could teach until the end of the school year. The senior profiler had said he had only agreed to the meeting because it could potentially serve the investigation. Reid and the members of the Organized Crime Unit had called it a date.

Robbie was absent-mindedly staring at his white chocolate cranberry cake, looking depressed like always.

"Thank you. But do you think I really do? Bring shame to the family I mean…"

The genius invardly cursed the boy's parents. And 'The Leader' who took advantage of troubled kids like his friend. He cursed the other teachers for not noticing there was something wrong with one of their students. He cursed other friends and classmates for not realizing it either. He cursed himself for not being able to really help.

"No, Robbie. I know that you don't." – And he had thought _his_ life at high school had been hell? At least he hadn't been bullied by his own family! Well, okay: his father had been absent by that time and his mother… in a way too. But still. – "I can't think of anything they should be ashamed of aside from their own behavior towards you."

The seventeen-year-old boy just stared back at him downcast.

"They don't love me. Nobody does and nobody will. I won't ever have anyone…"

"Listen. I once asked a good friend of mine if she thought I was weird and if that was why I couldn't get a date… You know what she said?"

"No… What?"

"She asked if I had asked anyone out. And I hadn't! So, why did I expect anyone to date me if I didn't ask anyone…? You get what I'm trying to say?"

The boy seemed thoughtful.

"Well, I haven't asked anyone either… So, you think I should?"

Reid shrugged, hoping he wasn't making a big mistake by suggesting it. If the first person Robbie asked hurt him, he could be discouraged for life…

"Worth a try, isn't it? Just bear in mind that girls are shy too. A rejection doesn't necessarily mean they don't like you or that they have anything against you."

"Okay… I'll try. Thanks, Spencer."

The boy's mood improved noticeably and Reid breathed a sigh of relief. Now he could go back to his cake and eat it in peace-

"Hello guys!" – A tall and athletic boy with light blond hair that looked almost white sank down next to him onto the leatherette bench and roughly pushed him to the side.

The genius rubbed his throbbing arm and surpressed a growl. Just what he needed right now…

"Hi, Jake. What's up?"

"I just finished…" – Explained the newcomer. – "Mr. Kennedy is a great PE teacher most of the time but he can be a drill sergeant when he puts his mind to it…"

Reid smirked.

"What did you do to piss him off?" – He asked, knowing Dean didn't take kindly to misbehaving students in his class, probably due to his military training and thinking.

"Nothing!" – Exclaimed the boy indignantly but seeing the unimpressed expression on the young genius' face, he admitted: - "Well, okay. I might have accidentally pushed Timothy down the wall bars…"

" _Accidentally_?"

"Okay… semi-accidentally? Khm… All right: deliberately! But he started 'cos he insulted me first!" – Robbie and Reid just stared. – "Anyway, he made me run twelve laps! Can you imagine it? Twelve! Outrageous!"

Oh, Reid could imagine it all right… Not that he was about to admit it.

"It must have been horrible!" – Gasped Robbie quite theatrically, covering his mouth with his hand. – "I hate running…" – He even added a shudder to emphasize his point, causing the profiler to roll his eyes. If anyone then he knew what it was like to suffer through a training you weren't ready for. A PE lesson with Dean was nothing compared to what he'd had to go through in the camp.

"Yeah, it was _terrible_!" – Jake said dramatically. – "Now I can't decide who I'm more angry with: Mr. Kennedy for doing that to me or Mr. Swanton for the F I got for my test!"

Robbie visibly paled.

"Mr. Swanton gave you an F? But he never does that!"

This got Reid's attention too.

"Why is it such a big deal? If you deserve an F, you'll get one. Isn't that how school works?" – At least, that was what he thought. He'd never gotten anything but an A+, of course.

His friend looked at him as if he had said something awfully stupid.

"No! You don't understand! Mr. Swanton never does that! He's the best teacher _ever_!" – He stressed.

Jake got somewhat angry hearing the boy defend someone who had just wronged him.

"No! He's not! I HATE him!" – He crossed his arms petulantly. – "And he's weird anyway." – He added almost as an afterthought.

Robbie jumped up, his face positively red in anger and made a fist as if preparing to hit the other boy.

"Take that back!" – He shouted.

Kathy who'd been busy cleaning the table next to them (for far too long for it to be normal, Reid noted somewhere in the back of his mind) looked up shocked and took three steps backwards, away from the evolving fight.

The youngest profiler shot a last longing glance at his barely started cake before putting the napking onto the table and standing up as well.

"Whoa, guys, easy! We don't want to be banned from this place!" – He said with the intent of calming them but it didn't seem to do them any good. Unless you counted Kathy muttering 'we would never ban _you'_ as good… - "Robbie, sit back down. NOW!" – He was somewhat surprised to see the seventeen-year-old obey. Next he turned to Jake. – "You too. Not there. _There_!" – He pointed at the other chair. The bench was _his_. Once he was sure the two teenagers wouldn't start the third world war, he smiled sheepishly at the girl. – "Sorry for that… Can I have a coffee, perhaps? With the usual amount of cinnamon, please. Thanks."

She actually appeared to be debating with herself a bit – probably thinking about hugging him – before nodding and heading to bring the requested drink. Only then did Reid take his place again and grab the fork.

"Sorry…" – Muttered both boys quietly.

Reid ate a few bites of the cake, thinking deeply, before asking.

"So, will you tell me about his Mr. Swanton you don't seem to be able to agree on? I want to hear both opinions but not at once!" – He said quickly when he saw the other two open their mouths and take a deep breath to continue the argument where they had left it off. – "What does he even teach? Who is he? Have I met him?"

It was Jake who answered first.

"He teaches History and his favorite topic is the Middle Ages. Especially the torture stories. He thinks those were the best times in history and we should go back to these methods when enforcing discipline." – The profiler raised an eyebrow at that. – "Yeah. I told you: totally nuts, that man is."

"He's not! He's the best teacher!"

Reid turned to Robbie.

"So, you go to his classes then?"

"I did, last year." – He said. – "I loved all his lessons and I got an A! Everyone who pays attention and prepers gets an A. If you didn't then it's your fault, Jake!"

"And he didn't freak you out with all that talk about medieval torture chambers, crucifixion, flaying or the breaking wheel!?"

"No, these are historical facts!"

"Yeah, sure, but he _enjoys_ talking about them! Showing us pictures! That drawing about an impaled man!? He even said they had people _raped_ by wild animals!" – Reid let the fork drop out of his hand, having suddenly lost is appetite. Doing what he did, he was quite used to the sight of gruesome scenes and mutilated bodies but it still didn't mean he could eat a cake while talking about things this gory. And Jake was just starting to really get into talkative mood, it seemed… - "And the sawing in half? Death by boiling? Punishing by the rack? Or-"

"Okay, okay! I think we get it! So, he's going on about these all the time?" – The genius asked, trying to stop the images flashing before his mental eye. Eidetic memory could be a bliss sometimes but more than once it had only served to cause him sleepless nights. He had, of course, known about these practices and seen pictures presenting them; being reminded wouldn't do his dreams any good.

"Yes, always! He even says he supports the death penalty. That it should be allowed all over the world and that his only regret is, it's not as painful anymore as it used to be when they burnt people at the stake or let them be bitten to death by rats. He says an injection is too merciful."

"So what?" – Growled Robbie, defending the man once again. – "Everyone is entitled to their opinion! And he's right: there are criminals out there who would deserve pain and suffering!"

Jake ignored the boy as he went on explaining:

"When he's not talking about torture in the Middle Ages, he is filling our heads with legends and lore about Stonehenge and how he wishes he could join the Druids, because they were powerful and all-knowing."

Reid shook his head.

"That's stupid. The legend of Druids performing healing or any kind of magic with those stones is just that: folklore. There are no supported historical facts of the Stonehenge being anything but an ancient calendar or meeting point. The mythology around King Arthur and his magician, Merlin, was only created by Geoffrey of Monmouth in his work Historia Regum Britanniae. It's just a story. A History teacher can mention them but isn't allowed to present these as facts. He should know better."

Jake blinked for a moment in confusion, not believing someone could know so much about a topic they hadn't studied yet, but then just nodded in agreement.

"Yes, thank you. That's exactly what I'm saying: this man is _mental_! He thinks he's some shaman or something rather than a teacher!"

 _Shaman_!? This got Reid thinking… Wasn't this behavior exactly what they were looking for…?

"Jake… Tell me: what does this man look like?" – Seeing the confused expression on the boy's face and also noting the slight panic on Robbie's, he added quickly: - "I'd just like to know if I've already seen him at all."

The boy shrugged.

"Dunno… Normal… Tall… I guess."

Tall…

"Spencer, don't tell me you believe him!?" – Shrieked Robbie. – "He is just saying this because he got an F! Mr. Swanton is the best teacher ever! What's wrong with telling us interesting stories rather than just boring dates and such things?" – He argued.

Jake interrupted:

"Some people say he's a freemason."

"Huh?" – Reid knew exactly what Freemasonry meant, of course. This not-so-secret group of people traces their origins to the local fraternities of stonemasons and have been around for centuries. The so-called Masonic Lodge is the basic organisational unit of Freemasonry, and at first sight, they operate much like any company would: they organize events, do charity, elect members, have degrees and even pay bills. But beside these normal, everyday activities, they also perform 'secret' ceremonies like the Initiation, of which not much is known even though there are many whispers about these rituals. The freemasons are said to have great power, wealth and influence even in state and international matters. According to rumors, the most powerful world leaders all belong to this organization and they meet regularly to coordinate their moves and form common plans. Most probably there are over 5 million members worldwide! Even many kings of England are said to have been members, like Kings Edward VII, Edward VIII and George VI, not to mention other high profile freemasons such as George Washington, Benjamin Franklin, Franklin D. Roosevelt or even Oscar Wilde.

Reid highly doubted 'The Leader' was one of them but his apparent fascination with these stories about secret organizations and mythical ceremonies would explain a lot. They might be facing an UnSub with delusional disorder here…

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

As soon as he'd made sure the two boys wouldn't kill each other, he had excused himself and run home to convince Ian to demand from the Organized Crime Unit's version of Garcia that he send them everything he could find about a certain Mr. Swanton.

The information they had managed to uncover in just a few hours after receiving the requested intel was mind-blowing: Gregory Swanton, whose real name was actually Stuart Miller, had been flying under the authorities' radars for years using different names and changing locations and jobs as often as others changed socks. He'd lived in six different states in the last nine years and had only started at the high school as a History teacher a year and a half ago. His previous identities had been accused of several crimes in the past but he had always managed to slip away without getting caught.

"Wow, Genius Boy. Even in the unlikely event that this man isn't who we're looking for, you have definitely managed to identify a crazy criminal." – Dean said proudly, patting him on the back.

"Good job, 007!" – Laughed Simon.

"If I'm 007, does that make you Moneypenny?"

"Nah. Q, or M maybe."

They all laughed before remembering their job again.

"So, what do we do? I really think he could be our man." – Observed Reid, referring to Miller or Swanton or whatever he wished to be called now. – "I think I'll try to talk to him like an eager student interested in his class… See if he fits everything we know about The Leader. I have a few ideas what to look for…"

Rossi shook his head in dispair.

"Just be careful. Aaron and the others would kill me if they knew what we're planning… Take your gun." – He suggested.

"To school?"

"Yes. Hide it in your bag but have it with you all the time."

"And your badge." – Added Marshall. – "Should you need to use the gun, you'll definitely need to prove you're FBI."

"Ahm… You think it's likely he'd attack me…?"

"I think if he's really crazy and feels trapped, anything could happen." – Nodded Walker. – "We'll be close and ready to move in. Dean and David will be in the building, tailing you. But only you can approach him without instantly becoming suspicious."

"I know. I hope Robbie won't warn him… He seemed to feel there was more to my questions than just innocent curiosity."

"Would he betray you like that?" – Asked Ian.

"If it's a choice between me and his idol? In a heartbeat."

A gentle hand was put on his shoulder.

"Again: be careful. And if you're not sure he's The Leader, then let him go. We'll catch him anyway for all the other crimes but not in the school. Don't do anything then!" – Warned Walker sternly.

"Okay."

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

It had taken Reid two days to track the man down and in the meantime, he had become absolutely certain they'd needed to move fast because Robbie had definitely talked to The Leader about the danger, if his avoidance of the genius was any indication. That, for one, strengthened his belief that Mr. Swanton was the one they were looking for, but it also meant they had probably lost the element of surprise. He'd be on the lookout now and that made the genius all the happier about having his gun at hand.

And finally: he saw the teacher exit a classroom after the third period Friday.

He cleared his throat as he approached the man.

"Ahm… Mr. Swanton?"

"Yes?" – He asked seemingly kindly, not appearing agitated at all.

"I was wondering… I'm a new student, just joined in the middle of this term, and I've heard a lot about your lessons. How they're very interesting and useful… Things like that. So, I thought I'd ask: do you think I could join in?" – He searched the man's face for signs of recognition but couldn't find any, though he was sure The Leader knew exactly who his Followers were, even if the Followers didn't know him. Was it possible they were wrong…?

"What's your name, son?"

"Spencer. Spencer Rossi, sir." – He said, waiting for any distress to appear. Nothing came.

"Spencer. I'm sorry but as it's already May, I don't think it would be wise for you to join now. Next term though, I'll be glad to welcome you among my new students." – He smiled apologetically and started towards the stairs.

Reid followed after him, not ready to give up just yet.

"But sir, what if I'd just sit in and listen? Then next year I could take the class officially… I've always been interested in medieval history, torture technics…" – The man didn't stop but the genius saw the fingers of his left hand start to move rapidly as if playing the piano. The same tick he had seen when he had angered The Leader! Bingo! – "I've always been especially fascinated by Druids and-"

The man suddenly turned around, grabbed his shoulder and squeezed. Painfully hard. Just like he had done during the meeting when he had taken the oath.

"'Im very happy about your enthusiasm but I'm sorry: it's impossible, especially since I'm sure you have classes of your own as well to attend. So, if you'll excuse me."

"Wait!" – He shouted, running after the suspect. – "I really want to learn about how they used the heretics fork or the neck torture ring! You know: under the slogan _Pain and Death_."

The man stopped dead in his tracks and slowly turned to look at him. His friendly smile was gone, replaced by a menacing grimace.

"What did you just say, boy?" – He hissed in a dangerously low voice.


	21. A Job Well Done

**A Job Well Done**

"I asked: what did you say?" – The man repeated menacingly when Reid refused to answer the first time.

The young profiler stared back at the UnSub who wasn't actually an UnSub anymore with as much confidence as he could muster. So far, none of the students standing nearby had noticed their silent battle of wills and he hoped to keep it that way, so he forced himself to remain calm and collected.

"I think you heard just right, Mr. Gregory Swanton. Or should I say: Stuart Miller?"

"Wha-"

"Perhaps you'd prefer being called Leader? It's your choice, there are a few options." – He held his bag protectively in front of his chest, right hand resting where, at the bottom, his gun and badge were hidden.

"I'll kill you, you little shit!" – The man threatened in a whisper while, to an outside observer, still playing his role of caring teacher chatting with an overeager student.

"I don't think you will. You see, Mr. _Swanton_ : I'm not alone."

The man was just about to grab him roughly when someone called the genius' name from behind.

"Spencer! What are you doing?" – It was Robbie, and the distraction had just been enough for Swanton/Miller/Leader to turn and run frantically down the stairs.

"Damn!" – Reid cussed and, throwing caution to the wind, he quickly took his gun and badge before disposing of the bag altogether. By now all the students were looking at the scene unfolding on the corridor and, upon seeing someone with a weapon, lots of them started to scream in terror, most probably envisioning the horrible school shooting scenes they had all heard and read about. – "It's fine! FBI!" – The genius shouted as he sprinted after the criminal, taking two or three steps at once and concentrating on not colliding with anyone along the way. Apart from the very first time he came here, he hadn't noticed anymore just how many students crowded in the building at any given time. Nevertheless, not long after that, just at the bottom fo the stairs, he managed to catch up to the false teacher and again shouted a warning. – "FBI! Stand still and put your hands behind your head!"

The man slowly turned around but didn't do as he was told. He suddenly grabbed the nearest student instead – a girl who Reid remembered sharing Physics with – and placed a shiny and sharp pocket knife to her head. More screaming made the youngest profiler aware of the growing audience of students and teachers but he couldn't afford to even really look at them now; his full concentration was on the man threatening to stab a sixteen-year-old girl to death.

"I don't think so, young man. I think I'd rather just walk out of here. And you'll let me." – Said Miller with feigned confidance. Reid, being a master profiler he was, could see small beads of cold sweat gathering on the man's forehead and knew he was, in reality, anything but calm.

"Don't be stupid, Miller." – He said just as collected. – "Where would you go? There are agents in this building and all over the schoolgrounds and streets outside." – He thought a bit of exaggeration wouldn't hurt. Quite honestly, he didn't have any idea where everyone was but he hoped they were nearby and on their way to help him. He wasn't prepared to handle a hostage situation alone! – "Don't make things even worse for yourself now." – He warned.

"You're lying; there's nobody here! I'll kill her!" – The criminal said, dropping the pretence of being calm and alone this fact showed Reid he was doing something right. The man needed to lose his confidence in order for the genius the get an upper hand.

The girl started shaking even worse than before at that statement and her legs threatened to give out. She repeated over and over again phrases like 'please, don't', and 'somebody help me'.

"Don't plead, Amanda." – Sighed Reid as he lowered his gun in a faked submissing manner. – "If The Leader wants to kill you, he will. No amount of begging and crying will get him to change his mind."

The girl screamed in terror and it was echoed by several students witnessing the scene. Someone shouted 'Spencer, no! How could you?' and Reid instantly recognized Sydney's voice. He really hadn't wanted her to find out the truth about him this way but right now he had other things to concentrate on than her fragile emotional state.

"See, you're wiser than I thought, boy. You're right: I will kill her and nothing can stop me. Unless, of course, you're willing to ensure I can get away unharmed." – Stated the criminal, keeping the knife a mere inch from the hostage's slender throat. – "I want a car with a full tank, five hundred thousand dollars in unmarked cash and a passport to leave the country."

"Oh, is that all?" – Snorted Reid sarcastically, gun still hanging limply in his hand. He wished Rossi and the Organized Crime Unit members would arrive like… right now! Or preferably yesterday… - "I'm not a hostage negotiator, Mr. Whoever-You-Want-To-Be. I'm a _profiler_."

"What the hell does that mean?" – The captor demanded, increasingly agitated.

The youngest FBI agent in history instantly recognized the opportunity he had.

"Well, that means I probably know you better than you know yourself." – He said simply, playing the arrogant agent he knew the other man would instinctively hate.

"How dare you!? You don't know me!" – The man shrieked, rapidly losing what little control he'd had before.

"Don't I? Let's see…" – He pretended thinking. – "You had a difficult childhood. Your father probably beat sense into you whenever you acted out while your mother was powerless to stop him. That caused you to think of women as inferior and weak. You hated your father but you also admired his power and wished to exercise the same over other people." – A few students gasped and Miller was visibly shaking, the hold on the knife loosening in his uncontrollably trembling hand. – "As you grew you got angrier and angrier at people who didn't understand you and didn't fear you the way they should. You started with smaller violations of law like shoplifting and bar fights. When you saw you could get away with them, you graduated to robbery and assault. These weren't so easy to explain though, so you changed locations and names all the time, always starting over but never staying long at one place."

"That's… just… That's _vile slander_!"

Reid ignored him and went on, taking a few careful steps closer to captor and captive.

"You originally only started the cult to get money and you only drugged the 'Followers' because they were easier to control that way. But then you began to enjoy the way these students; children, really; looked up to you. You also started honestly believing in your own superhuman powers and you thought: why not do it seriously? It was what you had wanted all your life, wasn't it? To have control over others? To dominate them? So, you got more and more into your role. Your obsession with Druids, Middle Age tortures and freemasons-"

"I _am_ a freemason!" – The 'Leader' insisted vehemently.

"You're as much one of them as I am; meaning: not at all. But you wish you were, right?" – Reid knew he had the man and knew he was in charge now. – "Anyway, the problems began when some of the students realized what you were doing and rebelled. You came up with the idea of mass suicide and got rid of them… Then moved here and started everything from the beginning."

He could hear Robbie sobbing in the background and a part of him wondered if it was because he understood finally how he'd been played or because his 'family' and 'the god' would be taken from him now.

Miller lost all self-control. He pushed the horrified girl out of the way and launched himself at Reid with full force. Luckily, the genius was prepared: with a speed nobody would have expected of him a few months ago, he leveled his gun and shot the attacker in the shoulder, causing him to fall back and scream in pain.

He wasn't the only one either: all around them panic started to build as students and teachers were running towards the front door, shouting at the top of their lungs for help and trapping over each other frequently. The genius crouched down next to the criminal to keep him in place and also to prevent him from being trampled to death. It would be too easy for him to escape jail time like that… Just then, a shadow loomed over them and looking up, the youngest profiler heaved a sigh of relief.

"Finally! I thought you weren't coming!" – He exclaimed, sitting back tiredly. – "Where have you been?"

"We heard the shouts and came as soon as we could. And then there was a shot… Are you all right?" – Asked Rossi, ignoring the whimpering man in favor for looking the boy over, making sure he wasn't injured.

"I'm fine."

"Hey, but _I_ am bleeding here!" – Miller whined.

"Shut up." – Was all the senior profiler answered as he pulled his youngest colleage to his feet and into a bear hug. – "I'm so sorry I wasn't here! I'm so very-very sorry, Kiddo."

"It's okay, Rossi."

"And what about waiting for us and staying safe, boy? Didn't we talk about you not placing yourself in danger? Didn't I tell you to be extra careful? Didn't-"

But Reid only laughed and hold on tighter.

In the meantime, the members of the Organized Crime Unit had arrived and were doing their best to control the panic and keep the fleeing people inside – they were all witnesses after all and as such, local police would have to take their statements. Dean and Ian came to handcuff the protesting man and also to save their young friend from the tirade of the pissed off senior profiler.

"What are you doing? I need a doctor, I'll bleed to death!"

"Your wound is superficial. Just a graze." – Shrugged Dean, roughly forcing the criminal to his feet.

"But I'm injured! I'm the victim here! This boy is dangerous and crazy!"

"Stop whining like a baby." – Rolled his eyes Ian. – "You're pathetic."

"But he _shot_ me! How dare he! And he didn't even do his investigation properly! The mass suicide didn't happen at my last location but at the one before that!" – He complained.

The genius, having just gotten free of his 'dad's' embrace, smirked.

"If that's all I got wrong then I really am a genius."

"What? You mean… What do you mean?"

"I mean that I just made these all up to distract you." – He admitted smiling.

"WHAT!? You didn't even know about the crimes?"

"Not, not about all. But you just confirmed them in front of witnesses, so: thank you."

"I'll kill you! I will gut you alive! I will impale you on a pole! I will saw you in half, I will-" – But they didn't get to learn what else he wanted to do to the boy, because he was led away by the two OCU agents guarding him.

"Grrr…. Now I won't sleep for two weeks." – Said Reid with an over-dramatic shudder. Rossi put an arm around his shoulder as they joined the local police officers to give their (especially Reid's) version of the events.

"Just don't think we're done with that conversation, young man!" – Threatened the older agent still fuming.

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

It had taken them around an hour but the police officer finally patted Reid's shoulder sympathetically and closed his small notebook to signal the end of the interview. The genius had told him everything about the happenings leading up to Miller's capture and also – since there wasn't any point trying to keep it secret anymore – about their undercover mission resulting in the success. They also assured the man that any further investigation in the case would be the FBI's job, so local police wouldn't have to worry about Miller.

The senior profiler said goodbye to the officer and led his youngest colleague away.

"Kiddo, you're the hero of the day." – He said gently, his arm never leaving the genius' back. – "And prepare yourself because there's no way Aaron and the others won't hear about it."

He was sadly right: apart from the press crowding by the entrance of the school, broadcasting every second of the commotion on live television, there were also the students who had already posted the whole story with a bunch of pictures on every social media site available.

"Just great…" – Groaned the boy. He then spotted Sydney standing a bit farther, looking at him intently. He sighed. – "Would you excuse me for a moment, please?"

Rossi saw where his protégé was looking and nodded in agreement.

"Sure. Good luck."

"Thanks…" – He carefully made his way towards his friend, wondering if she would be willing to talk to him at all. – "Hi…" – He said uncertainly upon reaching her.

"Why?" – She asked tearfully. – "Why did you lie to me?"

Reid sighed sadly.

"It wasn't my choice, Sydney. I was undercover. You have to understand what it's like: I'm an agent, I have my orders. It wasn't even my idea or anything."

"So, you're really an agent then?"

"Yeah… A profiler, that bit was true."

"Your name?" – She sniffled.

"It's really Spencer. Just not Rossi… My name is Doctor Spencer Reid."

"Doctor?"

"PhDs…"

"Why the use of plural?"

"I have three of them."

"Oh. Of course you do." – She rolled her eyes. – "Are you a genius or something? Or are you much older, just looking this young?" – She asked bitterly.

"I'm 21… And yes, officially, I'm considered a genius. It doesn't matter though. Sydney: our friendship wasn't fake. I do like you very much."

"Yeah, sure." – It was evident she didn't believe him. Not that he blamed her.

"It's true."

"I don't trust you, _Agent_. I guess you had a swell time laughing your ass off that we, lowly everyday people, all believed your masterful act." – She spat.

"I'd never do that! I liked being with you; it's the first normal school experience I've ever had. When I was actually going to high school I was a preteen and bullied mercilessly."

"Don't expect me to feel sorry for you!"

"I don't. And I'm sorry. I wish you all the best, Sydney. You can be anything you want to be, never forget that. Bye."

With a final sad smile, he left her and went looking for the others. He just wanted to get away and sleep for at least a whole day.

He'd have liked to talk a few words with Robbie too, but the younger boy had long ago disappeared without a trace.

"No comment!" – He shouted and expertly dodged the reporters trying to block his way as soon as he exited the building. The flashing lights made his head hurt and he could hear people call him from many different directions, annoying him more and more. He quickly jumped into the waiting car behind Rossi and slammed the door shut with the full force of his anger.

"Kiddo, how did it go?" – Asked the senior profiler, sensing the younger's dark mood.

"Just peachy."

He ignored the concerned look Walker threw him in the rearway mirror and decided to sulk silently instead.

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

"We should call Aaron." – Said Rossi as soon as they entered their apartment. – "I'm sure they've heard the story of the capture and are out of their minds with worry."

"Okay."

"I'm going to call them then."

"Okay."

"Then we'll talk about your reckless behavior."

"Okay."

"After that, we could go up to the others and watch a movie."

"Okay."

"Or I could cook something."

"Okay."

"Or maybe I should sing opera arias on the balcony while you dance in a tutu."

"Okay."

Rossi sighed.

"Kiddo, you're not even paying attention... Reid… REID!"

Reid turned towards him, still appearing to be deep in thoughts and looking as if he had just realized he wasn't alone in the apartment.

"Huh?"

"I said we'll need to call the BAU."

"Yes, good idea. Can you do it though? I think I need to go somewhere."

"Go somewhere?" – The senior profiler repeated stunned. – "Where?"

"I don't know… something's wrong… I'll be back in a few hours. Oh, and I'll take the car." – With that, he took his jacket and walked out.

"Where are you going? Reid? REID!" – But the boy was already gone, not bothering to answer. – "Oh, just great. Perfect. Don't mind me, I'm just the worried father here!"

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

 _Dave? Spencer? Is that you? Who's that? DAVE!?_ – Rossi had to hold the cell away from his ear so that he wouldn't get deaf.

Yes, Aaron. It's me. Don't shout; you're waking the dead!

 _Oh, God, Dave! Who's dead!?_

Nobody, it's just an expression. Calm down.

 _Oh. We saw the footage about the capture. And Reid… Oh! Wait a moment._ – Rossi heard him talk in the background. – _Yes, it's Dave. I don't know. I was about to ask._ – Now he was back. – _Where's Reid? Are you two all right? Wait, I'll put you on speaker._

Hi, everyone. The Kid has gone somewhere but he's fine. Don't worry. How are you?

 _We're in Seattle now just finishing up a case. As soon as we can leave here, we're flying to you. Now that we finally know where you are-_

It's unnecessary, Aaron. We're done here and going home soon as well. We'll see you in Quantico.

It was Emily who answered next.

 _What was Jasper thinking? I'll kill him! Reid isn't supposed to do undercover jobs! He's too young and untrained._

Do me a favor Prentiss, and don't say that in front of him. As a matter of fact, you'd be surprised. He did fine and he solved the case practically alone.

 _On television, he looked different somehow._ – Observed Morgan in the background.

He IS different. More grown up. You'll have to acknowledge this; he's not a child anymore.

 _He's still only 21 though…_ \- Observed JJ. While Garcia said mournfully: - _They cut his beautiful hair._

Guys, guys. He's fine, all right? He's actually quite successful with his new looks—

 _What does that mean!?_ – Exclaimed Morgan but Rossi ignored him.

We'll be home soon and you'll get to see him to make sure he's okay. Until then, just take my word for it, won't you?

 _And you, Dave? Are you all right?_

I am all right too. So, stop worrying and I'll call as soon as I know when we get to go home, okay? Bye!

 _Take care and tell Reid we said hi._

Rossi disconnected the call and sighed. He would gladly tell the Kid that but the question was: where had he gone!?

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

Reid stopped the car, having just arrived at his destination, and taking a deep breath, got out. The building didn't seem as manacing now that he knew no 'Leader' would be waiting for him inside. There would be no cloak to wear and no money to put into the collecting box. And certainly no drugged drink, thank you very much.

He carefully opened the door and peered inside.

"Robbie?" – No answer. – "Robbie, I know you're in there! I can see your car parking on the road… Robbie?" – He took a few steps, straining his eyes to see in the semi-darkness. It was eerily silent and somewhat cold even when the weather outside had been gradually getting warmer these last weeks. He shuddered and pulled the coat more firmly around himself. – "Robbie…?"

"Go away!"

Following the muffled voice, the young profiler proceeded into the big room that had served as meeting point for the cult to find the teenager standing on the stage, holding a sharp object in his hand.

"Robbie, what are you doing with that knife?"

"Leave me alone, Traitor!" – The boy sobbed.- "You took away the only thing that gave meaning to my life!"

"It's not true. This…" – He motioned around. – "… isn't the meaning of your life. This is what could have ruined it."

"You're a liar! And you don't understand! You don't know what it's like living with my parents!"

Reid stopped a few meters from the stage, facing his friend and showing his empty hands for him to see he wasn't armed.

"You're right. I don't know what it's like living with them. But I do know what it's like living in constant fear someone would stuff me in a locker and leave there for hours or tie me to a goalpost in the middle of the night. I know what it's like when I have no one to turn to for help. When I have to be the adult even though I'm only a kid. Trust me: I know all that."

"You're lying just like you lied before!" – The teenager cried.

"No. I'm not. Listen, I did what I had to in order to complete my job but I didn't lie about anything that wasn't necessary: my name and age. Saying Rossi was my father. That's all. What we talked about as friends, it was all true. I enjoyed the time spent together: the movies, the walks, the coffeeshop visits. Everything. I didn't fake being your friend."

"How do I know you're saying the truth?" – The profiler cautiously stepped a bit closer. – "How do I know you didn't only use me to get information?"

"I have no reason to lie anymore; the job's done."

"And now you're the hero whom everyone admires." – The seventeen-year-old boy spat bitterly. – "DON'T COME CLOSER!"

"Okay, okay!" – Reid stopped demonstratively. – "I have no wish to be the hero. I don't want it. I hate being the center of attention. I've never known anyone as socially awkward as I am." – He admitted honestly. – "I sometimes wish I could just hide from the world and do my job far away from prying eyes."

"Then why be an agent?"

Reid shrugged.

"Good question; I actually never planned this. Somebody got me into it rather unexpectedly. A father figure."

"David Rossi?"

"No. Someone who worked with us before him. He left."

"You mean he left you behind. He _abandoned you_."

"Yes."

"Does it hurt?"

"More than I want to admit." – He whispered.

Robbie nodded.

"I know the feeling. But this…" – He waved around the knife still held protectively in his hand. – "… this can help."

The genius shook his head sadly.

"No. It might seem that way but in reality, it would only complicate things more. Cause more pain."

"How? I'll be gone, I won't feel pain anymore."

"What about your family?"

The boy laughed cruelly.

"Are you kidding me? They'll be happy to get rid of 'the shame'. I bet they'll even throw a party! They said I'd never be anything. Never do anything. They'll celebrate their success in foretelling my future!" – He had a hard time wiping his eyes with one hand and Reid was afraid he'd use the other one holding the knife as well soon.

"Then don't give up! Because if you do, they'll have been right! But you can win, Robbie! You can show them and everyone. The whole world! Show them who you are and what you're capable of!"

"And what's that?" – Came the sobbing question form the by now totally broken boy. – "How could I show them when I myself don't know?"

The genius sighed, walked to his friend and gently took the weapon from him.

"Anything. Anything you want." – He hugged his friend, preventing him from collapsing to the dusty floor. He might have hated any kind of touch but this time, he felt it was needed. – "Come on, I'll take you home."

"And what do I do? What do I tell them?" – It was difficult to understand what he was saying from all the crying, but Reid knew exactly what he meant. He offered his friend a handkerchief and gently steered him towards the exit.

"You tell them you're a confident and strong person. You don't need a Leader or your parents telling you who you are. You are going to think about what you'd like to do and then you'll do it."

"Will you help me, Spencer?"

"Of course I will. I'm your friend after all."

The boy stopped in his tracks.

"But I betrayed you. I… I… ahm. I talked to The Leader. I mean Mr. Swanton. I mean… whatever. I talked to him. Told him you were trying to find out more about him even though it's against the rules for simple members to know who he is. I warned him you'll go ask questions…"

The young genius nodded with a smile.

"I know."

"You knew?"

"Of course. I'm a profiler after all; it's my job to know these things."

The teenager hung his head in shame.

"And are you sure you still want to be my friend?"

"Tell you what: I'll forget this ever happened if you promise me you'll get a goal and work towards it, no matter what your parents say to stop you."

"Deal."

"Wonderful. Come on, Robbie. Let's get you home."


	22. Back To Normal

**Back to Normal**

It had taken the group two days to smooth things over with the local authorities, the school and the city. The commotion around the 'scandal' still hadn't decreased and as such, even now, Reid couldn't leave the apartment without having a reporter or two follow him, asking question after question, or paparazzis jumping out of random bushes or from behind trees, taking pictures. It was slowly getting on his nerves.

"Why can't they just leave me alone finally!?" – He burst out one morning upon snatching the newspaper from Simon's hand and finding his own face grimacing at him from the front page. Even on the photo it was apparent he didn't appreciate the attention and was trying to get away. – "Here I was just going to the grocery store; what's so interesting about it that merits a photo!? I'll sue them all, I swear!"

"Oh, but that's not all: there are also videos of it on YouTube, Instagram, Facebook and Twitter with hashtags like #ourhero, #angelagent, #cutiebeautie or even- khm. But it doesn't matter, forget it." – Shrugged Ian apologetically.

Reid crumpled up the offending piece of paper in a very tiny ball with malice and threw it into the trash bin under the sink.

"Hey! I wanted to have it framed!" – Complained Simon but seeing the genius' dark expression, quickly shut up.

The boy had been in a particularly bad mood these past two days; ever since he'd called Morgan who had assured him that the BAU team had collected all the material about their undercover success and decorated his desk in the bullpen with it. Garcia had, according to his ex-friend-now-enemy written a special search program that would automatically find and save anything posted about him in just a matter of seconds.

"Don't worry, Si." – Said Dean with his mouth full of Rossi's special cheesecake the agent had chosen for breakfast. – "We have at least eight more copies of the paper upstairs along with the Teen's Weekly where he was chosen to lead the Top Ten Hottest Men-list." – The boy threw a muffin at his head at that which he caught gracefully. – "Oh, cool. Chocolate. Thanks."

The genius chose another approach.

"For your information, this isn't the first time I make the headlines." – He stated proudly. – "The first was after I kissed Lila Archer."

Walker gasped.

"THE Lila Archer? The actress?"

"Yep."

"Wow."

"And why haven't I heard about it yet, Kiddo?" – Inquired Rossi, pretending to be hurt. – "You don't trust me? I want to know everything!"

"Sorry: it's top secret!" – It would do to tell them that it was actually the other way around: Lila had kissed him and he ended up in the swimming pool looking like a drawned rat.

"Because it's not true." – Tried Dean but he sounded unsure even to himself.

"It's is." – Shook his head Marshall. – "Here, look. It's the first thing Google finds if you search for Lila Archer and Mysterious Lover."

"WHAT!?"

They all crowded around Marshall's cell to have a look and Reid instantly regretted ever mentioning it. He had wanted to distract them but he could already see the fault in his logic now: they were still talking about _him_.

"Oh, you look great together, Kiddo. But if I have to choose between her and Sydney-"

"But you don't have to. I think I'll go and finish packing."

It was their last day in Madison and they had a lot to do until the jet would pick them up and bring them back to Quantico in the evening.

Reid didn't know how he felt about going home. Sure, he was glad he'd see his family again; he had missed them very much. He was a profiler not a high school student and his place was with the BAU. He knew that. But he also felt quite at home here with Rossi playing his dad and with the five OCU members all acting like Morgan and Emily would… Having normal friends and living like everyone else. He'd certainly never have that again. With all the ridiculous publicity he was receiving now, he would never be able to go undercover ever again.

He sighed as he contemplated his room. Having reached a decision, he started to carefully take the posters from the walls and roll them up, ready for transport.

He worked in silence for a while, until, some time later, there was a knock on the door and Rossi entered.

"Sorry about before. We shouldn't tease you like that when you're so obviously annoyed with it all." – The man said seriously.

"Nah, it's fine." – He knew a good-natured, friendly banter if he saw one. It wouldn't occure to him to really take offense.

"The guys have gone up to their apartment to pack. What are you planning on doing with those?" – Asked the senior profiler, referring to the 'teenage' room decoration piled neatly on the bed while the genius was currently sorting through his school books.

The youngest profiler shrugged sheepishly.

"I thought I'll take them home. I mean: why not? My apartment is quite bare, all the walls just a boring white color… It would be a pity to throw everything out under these circumstances, wouldn't it?"

The older man smiled knowingly.

"Definitely."

"The books can go to charity. They're not even used. Or we just send them back to school and they can give them to students who can't afford to buy new ones?"

"Good idea. And the clothes? Not exactly your style, are they?"

"Well… some people seem to think they're good for me…"

"Some people? Like girls?" – Rossi winked.

"Arrg! Maybe I should put those to charity too…"

"No, Kiddo. I'm just joking. Keep them."

"Okay. But I draw the line at the socks!"

"Why am I not surprised?" – Laughed Rossi, patting his young colleague on the arm. – "I'll go and finish too. Then we'll still have a few hours. Maybe we could play poker?"

"Sure. We should ask the others to join us."

"Of course, though I don't think they've recovered from last time when you beat us all fair and square."

"But it was months ago!" – They hadn't played poker together since boot camp; the others had insisted they find something else, like Cluedo, Scrabble or Monopoly. The genius loved and always won the first two but hated the latter with vengeance, since for some totally unfathomable reason, he always ended up sitting in prison instead of buying properties. Also, they always made him the banker, because he could count the fastest in his head and keep everyone's credits in mind without needing paper and pen.

"Exactly my point. We'll try again in a few _years_."

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

Reid had just finished emptying the room completely and was about to carry his bags out into the living room when he got another visitor. As a matter of fact, while he was concentrating on not dropping anything, they nearly collided at the door with each other.

"Aaaa! Oh… Sydney? What are you doing here?" – He asked, placing the things on the floor and inviting the girl to sit on the chair. – "I must admit, I didn't expect you to show up after… well. You know."

"Yes. And I'm so sorry. I was a bit out of it."

"Quite understandable." – He sat on the bed, facing his friend. – "Are you all right now?"

"I think so… I still can't believe we had a criminal teaching us for over a year. And that so many people believed him…"

"He has a charismatic personality and many people, especially teenagers are unsure of themselves and need guidance." – Explained the genius before stopping himself. The girl surely hadn't come for a lecture. But then again… What had she come for? – "Can I help you with something?"

"No… I just wanted to see if you're all right too? With the press bothering you all the time, I can imagine you're not too happy."

"I'm not. I hate this." – But he didn't want to talk about it. Not now, not with her. – "Do you know something about Rebecca?"

Sydney smiled.

"She said she despises you."

"Oh. She's good then; at least you talked." – He stated, causing her to chuckle.

"She and her entire family visited us yesterday. For the first time since she got into that cult. Her parents couldn't stop apologizing on her behalf; they didn't know she hadn't spoken to me this whole time. They really believed she was only going to a drama club."

"I bet they'll pay more attention to what their daughter is doing for a while."

"Probably… So. David isn't really your father?"

Reid suddenly felt as if he had been punched in the stomach.

"He's as good as." – He defended. – "We both work for the BAU; the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI. Our team is like family; it wasn't hard to play father and son." – He insisted, not mentioning how, in reality, it _had_ been very difficult in the beginning. Those times were long gone and there was no reason even thinking about them ever again.

She quickly shook her head.

"I didn't mean to insinuate anything else. Sorry. I'm just trying to come to terms with the fact that we had undercover agents at our school… You, David and even Mr. Kennedy. Who would have thought? I always believed these things only happen in films and books."

Reid nodded.

"Life can be funny sometimes." – He agreed, looking around in the totally bare room, feeling in the pit of his stomach the well-known melancholy that had been his companion all day.

Sydney looked at the empty shelves and cleared off table as well, as if seeing them for the first time.

"So, you're already leaving?"

"Yeah… We'll fly back to Quantico in a few hours. This isn't our apartment. Actually, I don't know how they got it and the one above us but we can't stay now that the job's done. We all have our own lives and tasks."

"But you don't live alone? Right? You said you were 21… It's a bit young to be alone."

The genius felt very uncomfortable now.

"Nevertheless, I do live alone. I'm originally from Las Vegas, my mom still lives on the west coast." – He didn't want to go into detail and tell her where exactly his mother lived or that he hadn't been able to talk to her for months now, since she had no recollection of ever having a son.

"And your father?" – She asked.

"No idea." – He simply said. At her horrified expression, he added. – "The BAU is my family now. It's fine, honestly."

"Still… I wouldn't want to be away from my family like that."

"Because you have a wonderful family, Sydney. Take care of each other, okay?"

"We will… So, this is a goodbye then? Can't we keep in touch?"

"Sure we can! Ahm… but don't use the number I gave you. It's not mine, I guess I'll have to give it back now. I'll purchase another one and write it to you in an SMS, okay?"

"Yeah, good. And do you have an e-mail address?"

"Ahm… No, I really don't have…" – She looked at him with clear doubt. – "But I can create one?"

"Great, then we can write. But we can't see each other anymore personally?"

Reid played with the hem of his shirt uncomfortably.

"Never say never…"

She looked at him expectantly.

"But…?" – She pressed.

"But the way I normally live… It doesn't leave much time for meeting with friends. We usually zigzag across the country every couple of days. Quantico might be the base but our job takes us everywhere. I might have a day off but then I get a message or a call and bumm… Next thing I know I'm sitting in the jet again on the way to the other end of the US. I've seen marriages of good people ruined solely by this lifestyle and I wouldn't do this to you."

"I see." – But she didn't. It was evident she didn't really believe him and thought he was only making it up to get rid of her. It hurt him that she would really think that but he couldn't do anything about it: either she'd be able to live with it or not. It would have to be her decision. – "Well, I'll be waiting for your message then."

"Yes. Good."

When they left the room, she went to say goodbye to Rossi too.

"David… I mean… Agent Rossi?" – She asked uncertainly.

The senior profiler smiled.

"Just David, please. That's my name and as I said: you're always welcome."

"David. I just wanted to thank you for all the wonderful meals and all the time you let me come over or when you brought me home… For everything."

"Sydney, you don't have to thank me; it was my pleasure. As a matter of fact: I'm planning on organizing a small party at my home near D.C. sometime during this summer. I hope you'll come too."

"Really? I've never been there! Do you mean it?"

"Of course I do, I wouldn't offer otherwise. We found great friends here and I want to invite them all; I'll send the information and you can all fly together, okay?"

"Oh, yes, yes, yes!"

"Great!" – The older man, ignoring Reid's indingnant look, clapped his hands together as if he had just achieved something magnificent. – "Kiddo, you won't let her go home alone, right? You can take the car, you're not playing a sixteen-year-old anymore." – He winked at the giggling Sydney and threw the vehicle's keys at the boy. – "He's a superb driver, don't worry."

"Right… Come on, Sydney." – Sighed the genius, throwing a dirty look at his colleague behind the girl's back.

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

Reid had only gotten back a few minutes ago when Simon appeared at their door.

"Guys, we're ready to go to the airport." – He informed them, grabbing one of the boy's heavy bags and carried it without problems along with his own. The genius huffed in annoyance: he had been barely able to lift it when he had brought it ouf of his old room into the living room. – "The car is waiting for us outside." – The agent shouted back; already halfway down the stairs.

"See, Rossi, now we didn't have time to play poker!" – He complained. – "Why did you have to offer her I'd bring her home? And why did you invite her to Quantico anyway?"

The senior profiler grabbed the boy's arm to stop him from leaving the apartment and looked him in the eyes, completely serious.

"Because I think you need to keep in touch with your friends."

"But we're going home and we'll be back to traveling and working around the clock. I won't have time for friends!" – The youngest agent protested.

The man shook his head.

"You make time for the things that are important. Don't make the same mistake I did: I lost three wives because I couldn't keep my priorities straight. And Aaron? He just had a divorce and can rarely see his own son. Jason lost his son and wife, then a girlfriend to his obsession with work. Don't be like Derek either, who only has one-night stands because he's too afraid to commit himself to anything serious." – He said.

"But-"

"The job is important and we need to concentrate, that's true. It doesn't mean we can't have a life at all though."

"So what should I do?"

"You should make sure you read your e-mails and answer them. You get a phone number they can use and you actually pick it up. You send them pictures, you ask about how things are going here. Sometimes, you invite them to you or you visit them here. You do everything a normal friend does."

Reid sighed and shook his head dejectedly.

"I don't know how."

"Oh, come on, Kiddo! You saved Robbie's life by being there for him! They don't teach these things at any school, you just try to do your best. You'll do great, you'll see."

"But it's different here as a normal person. When I'm Doctor Reid the awkward genius, it just doesn't work."

"Then don't be Doctor Reid the awkward genius. Be simply Spencer Reid."

The youngest profiler thought about it and for the first time ever, he believed he might be able to do it.

"Okay. You're right, I'll try. You know what?"

"What, Kiddo?" – Smiled the older man, giving the boy a brief hug before grabbing his bags and, with a last glance around the apartment to make sure they weren't forgetting anything, proceeded to lock the door behind themselves to leave for the final time.

"I thought I was going to miss coffee with cinnamon but I just realized something: nothing is stopping me from making my own at home."

"That's right. I'm proud."

"Oh, and I know the whole idea of the party came because you want to invite the principal."

"REID!"

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

Once they were traveling comfortably in the jet, Simon took a somewhat flat, medium sized package out of his bag, holding it up for Rossi to see, while Dean pulled what looked like an enormous shoebox out from under his seat, and placed it on Reid's lap.

"These are for you, guys." – Smiled Ian.

"Just a bit something that you'll remember us by." – Explained Marshall innocently.

"And so that you hopefully won't worsen our reputation within the FBI further." – Winked Walker. – "We know what other agents say."

"That we're crazy and uncontrollable." – Laughed Dean.

"And rogue, and dangerous, and suicidal…" – Listed Simon.

The genius shook the box suspiciously.

"I hope it's not more of the newspapers!" – He warned.

Dean negated.

"No, no. They wouldn't fit into such a small box anyway. There's too much of them…"

Ian laughed.

"… so we subscribed you to them."

"Grrr."

"We got you all something too." – Said Rossi, handing out the neatly wrapped presents to their respective owners.

They all opened their packages, the silence only occasionally broken by a humorous exclaim or a loud barking laugh.

"Wow, a whistle! Now I'm really a PE teacher!" – Squealed Dean in delight before blowing it so strongly that everyone had to cover their ears. – "Sorry! It's great."

"Oh, a hand-drawn map of Quantico? I can see you marked the café, the grocery store, the shooting range… Haha, thanks, Genius Boy. It's true we're not the best at reading maps." – Giggled Marshall, fondly remembering their very first task in the camp, where the young profiler seemed to be the only one who was able to make use of the map they had gotten to work with. – "We've gone a long way, haven't we?" – He smiled to himself.

Ian held up his gift.

"And I got a compass that has 'BAU' marked instead of 'N'."

"Yes, 'cos we'd like you to come and visit us there." – Explained Reid blushing. – "Sometimes you need to leave that batcave of yours and mingle with us, common people."

"It would help your reputation considerably." – Nodded Rossi, pulling out his brand new cookbook, handmade by the OCU members. – "Wow."

"It's not entirely selfless." – Informed him Simon. – "We'd like you to make these all for us."

"Anytime."

"It wasn't easy to find Italian recipes you haven't cooked."

"Oh, God! A bird figurine! This must have been your idea, David." – Chuckled Simon, remembering trying to get a pen out of the nest of that crazy mother bird while the others laughed at him instead of helping. His hand had hurt for days afterwards.

"Yes. Absolutely my idea." – Nodded Rossi proudly.

"Aaaa, darts board with markings like 'getting up early', 'running laps' and 'uniforms'! Incredible!" – Walker showed it to the others. – "Who wants to take me on with that when we get home?"

Everyone volunteered cheerfully. It was time for Reid to open the box too. He shook is again as if to make sure it wouldn't explode ("Why? It happens in The Smurfs all the time!" – He defended.), then slowly took off the lid.

"WOW! _Socks_! Lots of them! All colorful and different! Thank you all!" – He positively vibrated with happiness as he examined all one by one, before choosing two (a green one with orange stars and a purple one with yellow crosses) and changed into them in a flash. – "Now I feel so much better; I feel like I'm capable to _everything_!"

"There something else for the both of you." – Said Ian, handling them an iron on patch each, saying: 'honorary OCU member'.

They took the new presents feeling very moved.

Reid smiled.

"It's funny how great minds think alike, isn't it?" – He then pulled out five iron on patches from his backpack, with the script: 'honorary BAU member'.

"Now we really belong together."

And they did, there could be no doubt about that.

 **CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM * CM**

Having finished with the quick debriefing by SSA Collins in the 'batcave', Rossi and Reid finally entered the bullpen after having been absent for months. It was funny to be back, to see every agent hurry around, doing their daily jobs. At first, nobody seemed to notice the newcomers and the two profilers could observe their home in peace. Until-

"Oh, my God! They're back! Our Baby Boy and the Italian Adonis are back!" – Garcia cried out, hurrying towards them. As soon as she reached the stunned men, she pulled both of them into a crushing hug. – "We have missed you so much!"

"We missed you too, Penelope." – The senior profiler patted her back lovingly. – "It's good to be back."

Soon, they were surrounded by the whole team: JJ had happy tears in her eyes as she shouted 'Spence, Dave' and it was evident that even Emily was touched, though she tried to hide it by joking. Nobody bought the act of course and Reid whispered 'we missed you too' into her ear while she hugged him.

"I tried to get you two back." – She admitted finally. – "But Jasper wouldn't budge. I'm sorry."

"It's fine, it's not like it was bad…" – The genius assured her before he was swapped away by an enthusiastic Morgan.

"Wow, Kid. You look different." – He said, holding the boy at arms length and checking him over carefully. – "What changed? I don't know... Are you taller?"

"Possibly; some scientists claim you can grow until you're 27... And I'm definitely stronger!" – Reid answered proudly, still in the belief he had developed muscles during the trainings their new friends had put him through. The senior profiler had to stifle a chuckle at the youngster's false hope. Poor boy still didn't weight more than a normal 12-year-old, in his opinion.

JJ, who had just let go of Rossi, turned to the youngest with a calculating look.

"And these clothes? I don't think I've ever seen you wear a suit jacket."

"Ah, well. Things change, I guess…" – Smiled the boy sheepishly. – "But I have great socks! Look!"

"Dave, Reid! Are you two all right?" – Asked Hotch, looking a bit choked up himself. – "We were so worried when we saw the news…"

"We're fine, Aaron. I told you. See, he's in one piece."

"Indeed." – Laughed the unit chief as the two oldest watched the younger agents play around like rowdy school children and tease each other mercilessly. Right now, Garcia was pulling at the boy's hair, lamenting about it having been cut, while JJ and Emily assured him that his new hairstyle was actually very cool and he should have done it sooner. Morgan insisted everyone should just wear it the same way he did, since it was the easiest solution. – "I feel much better now that you're back." – He admitted. – "Now, everything can get back to normal."

"Ahm, not to sound too negative, Aaron, but do you think there's such a thing as 'normal' for us?"

"A valid question, Dave." – Then he turned to his youngest team member and cleared his throat to get attention. – "Reid, you know, we sometimes went to your apartment to check if everything was all right, pick up the mail, and things like that."

The genius nodded gratefully.

"Thanks, Hotch."

"It's nothing. But I was there yesterday and I found something waiting there for you."

"Really? What?"

"It's a letter."

"A letter?" – By now, the laughter had disappeared and everyone was looking at him seriously, making him feel a bit self-conscious. Clearly, everyone but him and Rossi knew what kind of letter they were talking about. – "Who is it from?"

"I think you should check it yourself; it's on your desk."

He carefully walked to the place that was his in the bullpen, and saw – much to his relief – no newspapers or photos about him anywhere in sight. But there was, indeed, an unopened envelope, bearing the name 'Doctor Spencer Reid' and his address in an elegant script. There was no return address but there was no need for it either; he would know this writing anywhere…

"Oh…" – He took the envelope and held it for a moment, not sure if he was ready to open it, especially here, with everyone watching for a reaction. – "I…"

"It's okay, Reid. You don't have to show it to us or even open it here." – Assured him Hotch.

The genius thought about taking the letter home and reading it in solitude but then decided against it.

"No. I think you all should know what is says. You're my family and I don't want to keep secrets." – He took a deep breath, then quickly ripped the envelope open. He sat down before taking out the letter and starting to read.

He read and read and read. Not with the inhuman speed he was accustomed to. Not even with a normal person's reading speed. He read and reread every word at least three times and studied the writing with the fascination of a small child seeing Santa Claus for the first time.

The others let him; they didn't want to hurry the boy or ask questions. He would tell them when he'd be ready. And if not, it was fine too. Even Rossi had a good idea by now who the sender was and felt a bit anxious about the young man's reaction.

After a good fifteen minutes, the youngest profiler sighed. He folded the paper neatly and slid it back into the envelop. When he looked up, he saw the others watch him in silent anticipation.

"It's… khm… it's from Gideon." – He stated the obvious. JJ nodded and put a hand on his shoulder. The others looked understanding and patient. – "He saw me on the news and, apparently, wasn't impressed with me being forced to do a dangerous undercover job…"

"Neither were we!" – Exclaimed Morgan suddenly but was instantly hushed by Emily.

"Anyway, he… ahm… offered me to leave the BAU and go work with him at the college. He said it would be no problem to get a teaching and research position for me; that he had connections. And I'd be safe. With him." – He finished, voice full of emotion.

For a while, everyone sat/stood frozen in place, unable to react in any way. When they realized it wasn't a joke, Garcia and Emily gasped in surprise and Morgan jumped up, muttering angrily to himself. ("How dare he!? He leaves us, disappears, then wants to take the Kid!? He must be insane in his old age! Sorry, Rossi…") JJ paled while Hotch and Rossi shared a concerned look.

It was evident they all wanted to ask what he'd do now, but none of them dared do so. In the end, it was Rossi who volunteered to break the uncomfortable silence:

"Do you know what you'll answer? But only if you want to tell us, of course…"

The genius looked at each of his teammates in turn. His friends. His family. Oh, what he'd have given a few months ago for his old mentor writing to him and offering him a way out! He would have done anything to be with his 'father' again, even given up his job! But it had been before… Before he had learnt he was capable to do more than just spit out random facts like a computer and draw up the geographical profiler – before learning he did have the qualities of an agent and even if he still had much to learn, he could and would do it. Before he had realized he could be a valuable member of the team on his own right, without standing in a mentor's shadow. Before he had come to realize there was someone who was willing to take care of him, should he need it, but also who trusted him enough to let him try his wings. Before he had found his place.

He cleared his throat.

"I'll tell him I'm very glad he wrote and that we finally know he's alive and well. Even where he is and how to reach him. I'll tell him we're all fine too, and I'm not angry anymore, so I'd be happy to meet and keep in touch. But I'll also say I don't want to change my life and move away, because, in my opinion, I'm exactly where I'm meant to be."

The others visibly breathed a sigh of relief, although Morgan still looked pissed off.

Hotch grinned.

"Good, because otherwise this would have been quite difficult: Reid, I talked to SSA Jasper Collins and; after I had stopped screaming at him; he asked me to tell you myself that you are to be awarded the FBI Medal of Valor for your quick thinking and bravery during- Hey, Reid, where are you running? Reid? REID!?"

The End

 **That's it: the final chapter. I can't believe it. :)**

 **This story has been the most successful of all that I've written, and I thank you all for that! For all the reveiws, comments, follows, favorits and everything!**

 **You're all great. :)**


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